The Long Tunnel to Azkaban
by General Schemer
Summary: Once again the Malfoys have found more than their share of trouble. Draco has been given a choice of three months in Azkaban or a year of public service. The question of who and how his case officer is arranged is the makings for a story.
1. The Gavel Falls

Summary: A novella length romantic story. Note: The story uses some situations and characters as developed in 'The Twelve Gates', but that's where all similarities end. And that being said, you don't have to read Twelve Gates to appreciate the story.

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling, and this story and it's original characters are mine. Contact before reproduction.

Pairing: HG/RW, HG/DM – sorry for the confusion you'll have to read.

Rating: M for adult themes and content.

Time-line: Story starts a month or so after the end of 'Twelve Gates' or about six months after the wars end. Our trio all have jobs at the Ministry.

Author's Note: The story is told through Hermione and Draco's PoV. A scene break will be used when they do indeed change. As in most Rom/Coms the story is character driven, but it's heavy in plot and loaded toward the end - so stick around. :)

* * *

**The Long Tunnel to Azkaban**

**1. The Gavel Falls**

Draco Malfoy looked up at fifty stern faces of the Wizengamot; each watching intently in plum-colored robes. There was not a relaxed face or smile among the lot of them. Positioned in front of the Wizengamot and presiding stately in black robes was Kingsley Shacklebolt. He thumbed through several stiff sheets of parchment while slowly shaking his head. Draco winched as three sharp reports of the gavel struck the bench and announced the court to order. The room became as quiet as a tomb as all murmurs and rustling abruptly ended. His lazy and insolent gaze transmuted into one of concern as Draco glanced upward, ready to receive sentencing. And if the looks of the Wizengamot were any clue, it was likely to be a stiff one. The Minister took a deep breath and began to speak.

"Draco Malfoy you have been found guilty of aiding the criminal Sorin Razvan and of complicity to sedition," Kingsley said as he adjusted his reading glasses and then looked closely at Draco for any signs of reaction. There were none. "Do you understand the severity of these crimes?"

Draco nodded and then resumed the insolent and defiant countenance.

"You are sentenced to three months in Azkaban and a fine of one thousand galleons," he added and Draco's head immediately drooped after hearing it. There was a long silence, and finally Kingsley removed his glasses and looked hard at Draco. "But the court offers this alternative..." he said, carefully spinning the glasses by the temple.

Slowly Draco lifted his snowy blonde head to look up at the Minister. The tiniest glimmer of curiosity was beginning to show.

"Conditions being as crowded as they are, the court would not lightly sentence anyone to Azkaban prison. We have no desire to break you or to leave you bitter for your remaining years. On the contrary, the court feels you could be a valuable asset to the wizarding community. What the court would like to do, Draco, is get you out from behind the restrictive walls of Malfoy Manor and into the magical community where you can work alongside others. What we propose is one year of public service – to be administered as we choose. A case officer will meet with you at two week intervals to evaluate your performance. If at any time you renege on your duties, then this offer will be retracted and you will serve the full three months in Azkaban. You have twenty four hours to make your decision. The court will reconvene tomorrow at this same time to hear your decision."

Draco looked at Shacklebolt unemotionally as if this whole process had been a troubling inconvenience. Perhaps it had ruined his afternoon tea.

"The court resigns," Kingsley announced as he slammed the gavel to the bench one last time.

Draco casually turned to meet Astoria and Narcissa who had been seated among the audience but were now rising to eagerly embrace Draco.

"Huh, 'to be administered as we choose' – sounds like servant stuff to me," Draco muttered barely above his breath.

"Well they can't expect you to stoop to that," Astoria chimed in.

"Don't be too hasty Draco. You know what that place has done to your father," she said in Draco's ear as if not to further alarm Astoria.

‡‡‡‡‡

"Malfoy," Draco announced to the matre d' as he escorted Astoria through the plush entryway.

"Yes sir. I see – yes a party of two. Right this way." The maitre d' led Draco and Astoria to a nice corner table in the main room of the Savoy. With a smile on his face the maitre d' pulled a chair out and motioned for Astoria to have a seat.

"Thank you," she said and Draco discreetly reached into his pocket to hand the maitre d' something. The maitre d' accepted the tip, noded curtly and disappeared.

A few moments later a smiling waiter drifts by by the table immediately and graciously leaves them two large menus.

"The beef Wellington is delicious. Mother and I had it for lunch last week," Draco said and Astoria smiled in approval.

"That sounds great Draco – yes that should be fine."

Draco motioned to the waiter who quickly scampered up and after a brief exchange, and taking their order came back very shortly with the two place setting.

"You haven't mentioned anything about your decision – have you given it much thought?" she asked and Draco made a sour face.

"Been trying not to really... yeah, I'll have to take the year of public service. Mother has all but insisted on it. This whole thing with my Father and now me, getting implicated in this business – well it's put a strain on her. Said she couldn't bear it if both of us were away."

"Well, I know I'd be a lot happier if you stay out of that place," she injected.

"But this public service? I've no idea what they've got in mind. I can't think of anything worse than some degrading form of manual labor for solid year," he said stabbing angrily at the beef Wellington.

"The thought is abhorrent. We'll just have to wait and see what happens I suppose," she said while eloquently wielding the silverware with the precision of a surgeon.

"I only agreed to make mother happy for the time being. If it were my choice alone I'd take the three months and get it over with."

"Yes, of course darling, but you have to consider the well being of the entire family," she said, quite contentedly.

"Do I?" he said staring blankly. Astoria gave him a troubled glance, then went quickly back to carving the beef Wellington as if the remark had never happened. Draco plopped his knife and fork down on the table and turned looking for the waiter. He motioned and the waiter came to the table immediately.

"Can I help you sir?" he asked eagerly.

"Waiter, the beef is overdone. It's very tough," Draco said firmly.

"Yes waiter, the beef is very tough!" added Astoria.

‡‡‡‡‡

After several minutes of rustling and murmurs the Wizengamot was settling down to business. Today, the faces were more relaxed and eagerly awaiting the decision Draco Malfoy would make. Still just as sour an insolent as before, Draco stood beneath the Ministers podium with hands coupled behind him. The Minister casually reached for the gavel and rapped the bench three times to signal the proceedings were underway.

"This court re-convenes to hear the decision of Draco Malfoy. Draco... with formal language aside now, what's your choice? Azkaban or public service?"

With his chin on his chest, Draco mumbled something hardly anyone could hear. The members of the Wizengamot were leaning forward with troubled expressions.

"Speak up Draco. All the Wizengamot must clearly hear your reply," Kingsley added firmly.

"Public Service! Was that loud enough?"

"That will do Draco, and I am pleased you took the courts advice on this generous offer. The Bailiff will show you to the administration office where your remaining arrangements can be made," Kingsley said while looking intently for any reaction from Draco. When there were none, Kingsley gave a sigh, shook his head, and struck the bench firmly to end the court.

"Come along Gilbert – let's find this Bailiff," Draco instructed the house-elf lagging behind. A few steps away a tall man in a midnight blue suit stepped toward the pair.

"This way Mr. Malfoy," the Bailiff said while pointing toward a hall leading to the lifts. Draco nodded and looked back to confirm Gilbert was trailing behind. The little elf was almost in a trot and carrying a leather satchel on a shoulder strap.

"How long will this take? I have other errands today," he asks the Bailiff.

"Shouldn't be long Mr. Malfoy," the Bailiff replied with a perturbed look across his face. After a few stops the elevator clinked, clanked, and jerked it's way to the Wizengamot administration level. The lift attendant reached forward for the latching mechanism to open the scissor-bar doors.

"Right this way sir," Said the Bailiff while leading the way with giant size strides.

They walked down a long hall with Gilbert trotting along behind to take up the rear. What Draco didn't know and could never imagine was that the majority of Ministry employees already knew him and felt sorry for the mess he was in. Most deeply regretted the fact that one of the oldest and most well-established wizarding families had never been on their side. Most all of the employees already knew of the offer extended to Draco, and the rumor was going around like wildfire that he had accepted it.

The Bailiff opened a door to the administration office while Draco and Gilbert entered the room. A perky young female attendant look up to greet them all with a smile.

"Here to take care of your financial duties are we sir?"

"Yeah... how did you know?" he said, puzzled.

"Right this way sir," she said with a smile and moved over to an accountants desk. "Will that be cash or a certified bank draft sir?" she asked pleasantly.

"Gilbert – you have the bag?"

"Yes sir," the elf answered and worked the strap around his long ears and handed the bag to Draco. Draco briefly examined the contents and extracted a leather covered book. He opened the book to tear off a large sheet and handed it to the girl. She examined the draft and immediately went to work preparing Draco's receipt.

"There you are sir – have a nice day!"

"Wait a minute... what about my instructions? Whom am I to report to and when?" he asked impatiently.

"Oh... almost forgot. Here's your letter sir," she said and handed Draco a freshly sealed envelope.

Draco opened the envelope studied the contents immediately.

* * *

Draco Malfoy,

Report to the office of Magical Law Enforcement on the following Monday morning to begin your work assignment. Bring parchment and a quill or whatever writing materials you're accustomed to.

Minister for Magic

Kingsley Shacklebolt

* * *

"Will you need my assistance to find your way out sir?" The Bailiff interrupted.

"Huh? Oh no, thank you – we'll manage," Draco said still looking at the note and trying to imagine why he needed writing materials.

"Then, very good day to you sir," the Bailiff said while spinning around on one foot.

"Writing materials – what on earth? Why would I need _writing_ materials? Come along Gilbert," Draco said. His long strides took him speeding away and Gilbert was running to catch up. Five minutes later he was completely aware he had taken a wrong turn somewhere along the long corridors. Down one hall and up another, past countless grey tiles and so many smiling faces, Draco was angry and lost. "Why are all these people smiling – and we're going around in circles." He came upon a sign that said, 'Magical Law Enforcement' when he heard footsteps. Coming around the corner were Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley. Draco was obviously lost and Ron was the first to speak.

"You're not turned around are you Malfoy? The detention block is two levels down."

"Shut up Ron," Hermione piped in. "The lifts to the Atrium are just past section B," she quickly added and pointed the way. Draco puffed up a bit and looked for all the world ready to explode, but instead he simply nodded then slowly turned in the direction of section B, walking briskly. Gilbert stood there giving the trio a threatening look before turning to run to catch Draco. His big spatulate feet slapping the tile floor loudly. Ron had to laugh and Harry could barely hold it back.

"The word is out he accepted the public service deal," Ron said after straightening his face.

"Well, maybe he's not as dumb as I thought he was," Harry said. "Say Hermione, aren't you a case officer? Maybe they'll give ol Draco over to you!"

"No way in hell," she said shaking her head. "They know how I hate him – no, the ministry would never do that!"


	2. The Question

**2. The Question**

There was a noticeable swish followed immediately by a sharp pneumatic pop and Winky took full corporeal form in Hermione's small kitchen. The little house-elf took a moment to stabilize herself then immediately went to work to prepare coffee and a small breakfast for herself and Hermione. Winky had been helping Hermione for several months now and Hermione wanted to use her more but would just have to wait. The flat she lived in was much too small to utilize a full time house-elf. The remainder of Winky's week was spent working at Hogwarts kitchen where she had taken up employment after being dismissed by the Crouch household. The castle work was fine, but every house-elf pined for a family and Winky had been through many personal troubles without one. Hermione had insisted on paying her for her work. At first this practice disturbed Winky as most house-elves were quite unaccustomed to it. Over time she understood Hermione was simply trying to help, no matter how misdirected her intentions might appear.

Now that the coffee was started and breakfast was simmering, Winky went to check on Hermione.

"Is there anything I can do Miss Hermione?" she asked Hermione who was coming out of the bathroom and rubbing the sleep of of her eyes.

"Oh Winky... yes if you could press my black robes."

"Yes Miss Hermione – is there anything else?"

"No... that's all thank you."

"Breakfast is almost ready Miss Hermione."

"I'll be there shortly."

Winky quickly pressed Hermione's robes and had the table set with one large place setting and one small one for herself. Hermione insisted that Winky have a breakfast meal every morning and Winky was still trying to get used to the idea. House-elves were never allowed to eat alongside members of the household and Winky felt very uncomfortable about the whole idea. This was one of the many things that made Hermione 'different' from any other employers she had ever known or heard tell of. She had just placed a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ beside Hermione's setting when the lady of the house arrived at the table.

"Oh thanks Winky... this looks great. What do you have planned today?" Hermione said and thumbed through the _Prophet_ while sipping coffee.

"The kitchen needs cleaning Miss. Pretty badly from the looks of things."

"Oh yeah, you're right. I spilled some soup on the hob the other night and it burned in before I could clean it off."

"Yes Miss and the floors... well they definitely needs attention."

"Oh yes – _sorry_," she said apologetically while wrinkling her nose.

"Don't you worry about it. Don't you worry about it at all. That's why you got Winky here."

"And it's a good thing too – I've got a big day ahead," Hermione said over a smile and a sip of coffee.

"Yes mam... and will you be looking over Mr. Draco's case?" the little house-elf sheepishly inquired. Hermione looked up with a shot.

"Well _no_. Cynthia Sickles is assigned to be Draco's case officer. How did you know about this?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Oh well... we house-elves, we hears a lot you know. Dottie, a good friend of mine that works at the castle – she knows the house-elves at Malfoy manor and she tells me these things," Winky gingerly explained while sipping her coffee.

"Oh... I see. Well that makes sense. Well, better be going. You have a nice day Winky," Hermione said pushed away from the table.

"And you has a nice day too Miss Hermione. Don't you worry about a thing."

‡‡‡‡‡

The sun was settling softly below the rooftops and the city was changing it's face for the evening. As the glare of daylight disappeared, street lamps began to glow and bright colors began to take on a warmer hue. All along the streets, conversation and laughter were beginning to replace the sounds of automobile noises. The day's breeze was slowing to a still and the evening air was beginning to fall. So many restaurants and grills were working to produce distinctly different cuisines and the scents they produced were coalescing in the streets as a single aroma of cooking food.

"It was a long day today – glad it's over," Hermione said looking over to Ron with curiosity. "So where we going anyway – and what's the occasion?"

"Well, we didn't get to go out for your birthday... remember I was still in Romania. Thought we could do that tonight," he said.

"Yeah, but Ron that's been ages ago," she said with a chuckle.

"Oh, here we are – I think this is the place," Ron said as they both paused at the door of a small street-side pub. They stood in silence for a moment and then finally Ron made a move for the door. The hostess received them and Ron said something to her Hermione couldn't quite make out. The dining area was rather narrow but the small balcony area they were seated at was very nice. The lighting was warm and comfortable.

"So how did you find this place Ron?" Hermione asked inquisitively.

"Harry mentioned it one day as we walked past. Said it was really nice, and then he sorta gave me that look. You know that far away look he gets these days when..."

"Yeah – I know the look," Hermione quickly added cutting him off.

Hermione knew the look well. It was that far-off countenance Harry would occasionally drift into whenever he started thinking of Sandy Sparkelyn. He still hadn't gotten over her and Hermione felt the less Ron knew about it the better. Hermione still had hopes that he and Ginny could patch things up before too long and the last thing they needed was any meddling or interference from Ron.

The waiter had taken notice and was pleasantly striding up to the table.

"Can I start you two off with drinks?" he asked in his most professional voice. Ron paused and waited for Hermione to go first.

"Just a house ale for me please," she said.

"Make that two," Ron added and the waiter disappeared with a smile. Hermione smiled at Ron's conservative form of manners. When she was younger she was always so happy to visit the Burrow. It was so comforting to be around a large family where magic was the norm. She could never escape the feeling she was the odd egg in her own household. With so many brothers, a sister, and magical parents, Ron was always in the know with everything magic. At least it seemed that way. He certainly had a head start on Harry and her. But with every advantage with things magical, he never appeared completely comfortable in Muggle environments.

"So how was your day?" she asked, still fishing for any clue as to Ron's motives for the evening dinner date.

The waiter arrived with menus and the drinks before Ron could summon an answer. He took a heavy pull from the mug of house ale and then contemplated Hermione's question.

"Pretty much a normal day I suppose. Maybe too quiet actually," he said as if still pondering on the question.

"Did Kingsley talk to you about the new training program?" she asked after a tentative sip on the house ale. Ron looked back as if he just tasted something sour.

"Oh yeah. I'm to get with Ms. Rosemarkie." Ron looked around to make sure no one was near. "Begin the Muggle studies and all that. Harry says it's awful."

"Yeah, I know he hated it. But it'll be good training for you. This is definitely a good opportunity for you," she said, trying to be upbeat.

"Yeah..." Ron threw back the mug as if to wash away the thought of training with Ms. Rosemarkie. "The job should pay more," he finally added and looked hard into Hermione's hazel eyes. She looked back for a few seconds, still trying to guess what was on Ron's mind.

_He's probably just in an overly amorous mood tonight. Hmmm... a weeknight. His chances are not so good. He should order us a light meal and one more drink if he wants to have any luck at all._

"Yes I would think it would be better pay for you," she eventually managed.

The waiter came back around wearing a curious expression and a towel draped over his arm.

"We have fresh fish special tonight. It's very good," he said with as much enthusiasm as possible.

"That's sounds good to me," Hermione replied and the waiter nodded pleasantly. _That should be light enough – at least I'll give him a sporting chance._

At first it appeared as if Ron was to say, 'make it two', but he hesitated.

"I'll have the bangers and mash please."

"Certainly. Good choice sir," the waiter said disingenuously and immediately disappeared.

Not being able to sustain her curiosity any longer, Hermione was compelled to inquire as to the true cause of occasion.

"So why are we out tonight Ron – and I know it's not my birthday," she said grinning. Ron looked away and seemed put off by the question.

"Well, that's not all of it. How long have we been dating?" he fired back.

"Don't know – when did we officially start," she asked and Ron had no answer.

"Long enough I would think," he countered.

"Long enough for what," she implored. "Are you about to dump me?"

"Not at all. I was just wondering... now that I should be making more money. Uh – shouldn't I be making plans," he struggled to say and Hermione was somewhat clueless.

"What kind of plans exactly?"

"The plans that involve us both."

"I think I follow you Ron. But I'm not completely sure what you mean," she said slowly and deliberately.

"What if I asked you – right now – the question, you know?" he asked and Hermione's hazel eyes widened considerably.

"The down on one knee question!?" she asked with a look of complete bewilderment.

"Yeah... that question. I guess?"

Hermione shook her head as if to clear away cobwebs.

"Oh wow. I think I need another drink," she said without thinking.

"Waiter," Ron called out and pointed to Hermione's empty glass and then his own. The waiter brought re-fills over and Hermione was ready to break the silence.

"I don't know Ron. You'll have to get down on one knee and ask. That's the only way I'll really know for sure."

Ron frowned at the answer.

"I guess that's not a very fair way to ask is it?" he said as he realized the evening was not going as planned..

"No, it's a fair question... " she said in an upbeat tone. "Not very romantic, but I suppose it's fair," she replied and paused to add. "Ron, right now... I don't think we're ready," she added.

"You don't... why not?"

"Where would we live? My flat is two small for two, and I don't see how we could afford anything bigger right now."

"I've been thinking. We could add on to Bill and Fleur's. I don't think they would mind," he stated calmly.

"Oh, I don't know Ron. We'd have to talk to them. They haven't been married too long themselves and probably enjoy the privacy," she said and Ron nodded in sullen agreement.

"You're answers – they're all about practical things. Money, room and board, living space, and stuff like that?"

"Yes. And we can work on that," she said after a bit of reflection.

"I see - So how was your day today," he asked as if to give up on the original line of questioning. Hermione didn't wish to see his feelings hurt and returned briefly to the subject.

"I think we should work on our finances a little while and we'll talk on this subject again," she said while looking Ron in the eye firmly. "You'll never guess what Winky asked today?"

"Yeah, what's that?" Ron asked, trying without conviction to be upbeat.

"She wanted to know if I would be Draco's case officer – apparently this is the current gossip among the house-elves."

"I think the house-elves know more than we give them credit," he said as the waiter returned with the meal.

"She said she knew another house-elf working at the castle called 'Dottie', I think, and she was somehow tied in with house-elves at Malfoy Manor. It just seemed a little odd," she said nibbling at the fish.

"So what'd you tell her, about ol Draco, that is?"

"I told her Cynthia Sickles would be his case officer," and Ron nodded deeply.

"Have any idea what kind of work they'll have for him," Ron asked while gnawing on a sausage.

"Not completely sure, but it should be easy enough I would think."

"That's better than what he deserves," Ron quickly added.

"So how's Ginny? Heard from her lately?"

"Nah... she's totally involved in Quidditch. Should be home for Christmas. She hasn't asked anything about Harry – that's kind of odd, don't you think?" he asked with a puzzled look.

"Really? Yeah, that doesn't seem like Ginny," she replied with mock surprise and Ron nodded without a clue. Harry and Ginny had gotten into quite a row but Ron knew few of the details. It was a big mess really and Hermione wasn't about to let Ron in on the story. It had involved her and Lance, then Sandy and Lance, and then Harry going out with Sandy, and in revenge finally Ginny and Lance.

She knew part of the problem was her fault and the rest of the blame belonged to Arthur and Molly for being so damned strict on Ginny. Hermione had gotten involved with Lance while looking for her parents in Australia. She had somewhat paid for her transgressions on this matter as Ron had always known somehow. But he never pressed her for details, and she wasn't about to volunteer any at a time like this. Kingsley had stayed in touch with Hermione during her search, through the Australian Ministry. It was during this correspondence that the Australian Ministry learned of the shortage of Aurors in the UK, and Kingsley heard how Lance was a good Auror but needed finishing abroad.

Lance had shown Hermione around Perth and turned out to be a very helpful friend. After she found her parents, sadly, there was still weeks of recovery left to reverse all the memory spells. At times it seemed like she would never be able to undo all the magic, and her world would never be like it was before the war. On just such an evening, when things were going badly, she walked down to a nearby beach bar to get away from it all. She had just sat down with a beer when Lance showed up bringing his outdoorsy good looks. He had asked her out a number of times and while very tempted to go she had to refuse. She had found him gorgeous and hard to resist, but her life was all hosed-up and she desperately wanted to keep it simple. On this evening, she laughed at his persistence and they talked for a long time before taking a walk down the beach...

"Do you have any idea what they're fighting about?" Ron interrupted her dream to ask. She hated to lie but couldn't tell the whole story.

"Would you hate me if I just said, I'd rather not get into it?" she pleaded and Ron shrugged as Hermione took a belt of the house ale and slipped back into dream-like memories.

...It was a beautiful afternoon and they stopped to sit atop the dunes to watch a lovely sunset. The sun that day sank slowly into a molten sea, and they continued to watch from the dunes as the moonlit cooled waters turned into shards of blue. She felt his arm around her and then his mouth fumbled for hers. All her reserves melted like the golden sunset and they crawled further into the dunes as wave after wave broke on the beach. She awoke from the dream, biting her lip nervously.

"You're blushing," Ron said.

"Ah, it's just the beer. Very good actually."

They finished the meal and Hermione was thinking now of Ginny as Ron signaled the waiter for the check.

...She had left Perth for the UK content in thinking that what happens in Australia stays in Australia. She was as surprised as any when Lance showed up for a bit of extra training with the UK Ministry. She played the dangerous game of juggling time between Ron and Lance until, with enough discouragement, Lance stayed away long enough to form an attraction to Sandy and disappeared. But only until Harry came along and messed that up.

Molly and Arthur had never been convinced all the troubles from the war had truly ended. They were worried that an of act of vengeance against Harry might go so far as to include their daughter. They thought it best the two should stay apart until Ginny had finished school and ugly aftereffects of the war had a chance to cool down. Harry didn't understand this and had been seeing Sandy in Ginny's absence. On the night before Ginny left for school, Harry had suggested 'they see others', and Ginny was hurt and Hermione was furious. So the stage was ripe for revenge. Hermione set the two up and they met in Hogsmeade. The incredible irony was that no one suspected. All eyes had been on Ginny and Harry. No one ever suspected Ginny was sneaking off to Hogsmeade to meet with Lance.

Before long Ginny found Lance just as addictive and hard to get rid of as Hermione had. When Harry found out what had been going on he went ballistic. To avoid troubles – serious troubles, Lance took a leave of absence for Australia. There was no way now that Hermione could ever explain all of this to Ron.

"You about ready?" Ron asked her.

"Sure, the meal was great Ron – really nice," she said and Ron nodded, not looking very happy about the evening. "You Okay?"

"Sure."

Back out on the street, the evening air was cool but not unbearable and Hermione reached for Ron's arm.

"What's on your mind Ron?" she asked playfully.

"I expect you'll need to get back," he said sullenly.

She had enjoyed a light meal, a couple of drinks, and now enjoyed a warm tingly feeling in her tummy.

"Wah yeah... as long as it's with you," she said in his ear.

* * *

AN: Ahhh... I worried about this chapter. All the racy back story about Lance and the girls came from Twelve Gates but wasn't appropriate to tell in that story. Somehow it all had to come out, and this story was just the place to tell it. Or so I thought... It's all just fun right?

The first few chapters will come out quickly, then after the third will begin the two week trickle...


	3. A Meeting by Proxy

**AN: **Pulled the trigger on this chapter a little too early. Hence the reload. To those that did catch these changes/additions – please excuse.

* * *

**3. A Meeting by Proxy**

One more enhancement was needed this morning to straighten Hermione's naturally bushy hair. Finally, when she administered the last magical treatment, it fell straight and limp as if picked up by hand and dropped. With a few strokes of the brush it settled into a nifty pageboy. Thinking a tough day was ahead, she decided to dress nicely. Never mind that the work robes would hide her nicest frock, it was the thought that mattered. If she dressed nice then it would inspire confidence and bring a little sunshine into her day all the same. She carefully extracted the frock from her modest wardrobe and carefully laid it on the bed. Alongside the frock she stretched out matching hosiery. She pulled a pair of lace pants and bra from the dresser and wriggled into them. The bra had been a devilishly cute one, but she had to admit it was now a size too small and overdue for the dustbin. She'd been cramming the twins into it for too long and promised herself she'd replace it on her next shopping trip. Squeezing into the hosiery and pulling on the frock, she slipped on the heels and quickly checked everything in the mirror. Satisfied all was in order, she returned to the kitchen to finish off a cup of coffee.

Winky was coming in a little later today, so she wouldn't bother to straighten things up before leaving. She left Winky a note about a few thing to look for and gathered together her things to leave. With her handbag in hand and robes draped over her left arm, she readied herself for apparition. Before her first cup of coffee was cold, she was off to the Ministry for a full day. Such was the life of a young working girl in the Ministry.

‡‡‡‡‡

Draco Malfoy hated to be kept waiting and especially hated delays enforced by those he perceived as incompetent. Right now he was experiencing one of those kinds of delays and his normally pale complexion was turning slightly red. There had not been a specific time given for his appointment, but it didn't matter to Draco whether he was pushed for time or not. When he embarked on a destination he always went there straight away, and right now this person, of whom he considered a cretin, was wasting precious time.

The little wizard that served as security officer on this day was struggling clumsily with the wand scanning device while trying to authenticate Draco's wand.

"I'm sorry sir, but it just doesn't seem to be scanning properly," he said apologetically.

Draco exhaled a deep breath in exasperation, "I can't imagine what the problem is – it's my wand and I'm Draco Malfoy!"

"I'm sure you're right sir, but I'll have to keep it until you're ready to leave," he said while shaking his head.

"Whatever..." Draco said and threw his arms in the air with exasperation and walked quickly toward the lifts.

Quickly double-checking the note he'd received from the administration office he noticed there was not an hour for his arrival, only the date. The lift was quickly filling with employees and Draco barked his intended destination to the attendant.

"Department of Magical Law enforcement!"

The lift attendant paid little attention to Draco's request, and one by one, he opened the scissor bar doors and announced the level for each occupant to exit, except Draco. When the last employee had exited the lift, the attendant closed the doors and finally nodded at Draco, but then he ran the lift down to the Atrium entry where they first started.

"What!?" Draco said with hands out and palms up.

"Sorry sir, but this lift doesn't stop at the Department of Magical Law enforcement – you'll have to use that one across the hall," he said, pointing to the correct lift.

"Well that's great – now you tell me," he said storming off the lift. Going through the same procedure on the correct lift, he finally jolted and jostled then slammed to a stop.

"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement sir," the new lift attendant announced.

"Thanks loads," came a sarcastic reply and Draco stepped off the lift, immediately looking around in the small lobby for a concierge or an employee that might offer assistance. There was no one available and his mood of irritability had just been ratcheted up a notch. He took a deep breath and made a lackluster effort to calm himself. Casually walking down the long corridors of grey tiles he peered into each office door looking for anyone that might be able to give him direction. Office lights were lit but no one seemed at home. _Where could they all be? _There was a door at the end of a long hall and a sign over the door that said 'Dueling Pistes'. With curiosity peaking he couldn't help but crack open the door to peer inside. There was a long dueling piste marked on the floor on the far side of the room and a faded eight-pointed star pattern in the far left corner. Without a wand, it looked like a place to stay well away from.

This was baffling. Draco carefully re-read the note again to confirm his appointment. Yep, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he had passed under the sign on his way in. This had to be the right place. _There has to be someone here – maybe this is a test. _With that thought in mind he continued spelunking the cavernous halls. Up one hall and down another he mentally plotted the department layout. There was another office with a light on at the end of a short hallway. The irrational feeling he was running out of time was growing more acute as he neared the doorway. He poked in his head in and there was a head bowed down in study behind a small desk. The head shot up when he stepped in the doorway and after a few moments he recognized face – it couldn't be.

"Granger... Where the devil am I supposed to be?" he asked and Hermione pulled casually away from whatever it was she was reading.

"Oh Draco – yes come in. Please sit down."

"I have an appointment... somewhere in this bloody department but there's no one here," he said and tentatively took a seat in the uncomfortable chair by her desk.

"Most of the employees are at a town hall meeting Kingsley called this morning," she explained.

Hermione went back thumbing through the pages of the report as if taking mental notes. Draco was growing increasing uncomfortable by the moment and was looking around the office as if trying to find a way to escape.

"Can you help me or not – I'm to report somewhere," Draco pleaded, throwing his hands up.

"Relax Draco – you're where you're supposed to be," she said laying the report gently on the desk.

"You... I'm to report to you?" he said, and his heart skipped a beat. He saw Granger nod a curt little nod and smile, and he knew in that moment that his arse was hers. All he could think about was the grief he gave her in school. He liked to think of it as teasing, but she'd more likely remember it as torment. From a new perspective, many years removed, he realized he had said and done things as a child he never truly meant. Nevertheless, he had done some nasty things. It had all been a normal part of being a demented leader of a gang of Slytherin youth. The old saying of 'what comes around goes around' came to mind and he was thinking it was clearly her turn to take the piss out of him.

"Well then – would it be too late to take the Azkaban sentence instead," he said with a grim face.

"If that's what you want to do," she said in a rhythmical tone.

At that moment he lifted his head, forgetting about the mess he was in. Grey eyes cut straight to hers with defiance. They both took a moment to evaluate the other as a brief silence fell over the office. The physical changes to Granger since the Hogwarts days were intriguing, and he couldn't help but go through them with a mental checklist. The Granger he had known and tormented was a flat-chested, bushy-haired, and bucktoothed little bookworm. Just how she had changed the wild bushy hair, he couldn't imagine. But now her chestnut tresses were straightened and lying just short of her shoulders in a rather neat pageboy. The big front teeth had been reduced in size and the short upper lip allowed the perfectly normal pearly whites to be seen instead. Her eyebrows were thinned and the hazel eyes now looked cauldron sized. It was hard to evaluate her figure exactly, under the full black robes, but she was certainly not flat chested. No, not by a long shot. It looked as if the bookworm had grown into the moth. He cursed himself under his breath for letting his mind wander in such a way. She had turned herself into a pretty girl, but she was no doubt, still a ball-buster, and he had best keep his mind on business.

"So what manner of thraldom do you have in mind for me then?" he spit out the question.

"It's public service – and you agreed to it," she calmly responded. "An another thing... I won't be your regular case officer. Cynthia Sickles is your case officer, but unfortunately she's caught a bug of some kind. I'm just filling in."

"Oh. I see," he quickly responded dryly.

Then, maybe the weirdest thing yet, he felt a sharp tinge of regret before putting the thought quickly away.

"Well, at least that's a relief," he said with a sigh.

"Yeah, _I'll_ _bet_," she said and chuckled.

‡‡‡‡‡

She had leaned back and coolly received his hard stare, amber eyes meeting grey. Still the same arrogant bastard, she thought. The snowy white hair and pale features were the same. Still spending too much time pent up in the Wiltshire mansion. The baby fat, if he ever had any, was long gone and his features were chiseled and harder now. The tailored black jacket and trousers with expensive black oxfords were typical Malfoy. And there was something different now in the way Draco carried himself. The permanently guilty demeanor and darting eyes and were long gone. They'd been replaced with a fixed and steady gaze and look of self assuredness. His countenance now was not so cavalier and cocky. Perhaps there was also a little beat-down humility since school days. It was hard to tell. He carefully studied the room and objects around it as if looking for something. She almost hated the fact that Cynthia would come back to take the case over. It might be quite a bit of fun taking the formal stuffing out of Mr. Malfoy, but she put the thought away. This was Cynthia's case and she didn't want to mess things up before Cynthia got back. So for the time being, with regret, she would try and be professional if he allowed it.

"So what are my options?" he asked gloomily.

"Several. St. Mungo's needs some help – the Knight Bus needs a conductor and there's a cleanup project due to be started in Knockturn Ally. Any of those sound appealing?" she asked while spinning a quill in her fingers.

"No of course not," he replied, matter of factly.

"Well, you have a bit of a choice," she said. The temptation to draw him out further was irresistible.

"So what would be a good job for you Draco?"

"Some form of manual labor you mean?"

"Alright... yes some form of it."

"Oh I don't know. Don't think about those things too much," he said scratching his ear as if to prod a thought to jump out. "Maybe a waiter at the Savoy."

"Sorry. Doesn't ring a bell," she said dryly.

"You do know the Savoy Granger. Your family eats there, I'm sure," he added with a wry smile.

Hermione bit her lip and vaguely remembered. The Savoy was an upscale and ridiculously expensive restaurant. Certainly not the kind of place Ron could afford and her family had never frequented the establishment. The attempt to draw him out had backfired.

"Oh... that Savoy – I get it. Okay, let's focus here. The jobs I mentioned... do any of those sound like something you could do?"

"If I say no, could you find something else?" he said, still playing games.

"Not right now. You'll have to pick one of the three, but something else might come along later," she explained.

"The St. Mungo's job, what does it consist of, do you know?" he asked.

"Probably emptying bedpans, but I could be wrong," she lied and almost burst out laughing.

Draco pulled a face and then looked away.

"Okay, what about the Knight Bus? What's that all about?"

"You've never heard of the Knight Bus?"

"Never needed to take a bus," he retorted.

"Well, simple really. It's a bus for the magical community. It's serves as a means for practical transportation and as a means of rescue for stranded witches and wizards. We lost the last conductor during the war, so we keep the position open for public service jobs now. Yeah, you might be a good fit for that job," she said with a wry smile.

"I can see you're enjoying this Granger," He replied with a nasty look.

"Just trying to explain the job Draco."

"A conductor you said – that's means the job would require one of those ridiculous conductor uniforms?" he said, shaking his head.

"Yes, I'm sure it would – sorry," she lied again.

"So what's this cleanup project in Knockturn alley you mentioned?"

"I'm not really sure about this one. Cynthia would know more I'm sure," she said.

"A lot of good that'll do me – huh?"

"Well, it's probably cleaning the street gutters from all the chamber pot filth. Does that sound appealing?"

Draco looked away and had a drawn look about him, obviously pissed at the last comment.

"Well, from what little I have to go on here, I'd say the Knight Bus would be the safest bet," he added finally.

"Yeah, I think you're right."

"So what do I do next?"

"Meet Ernie, the driver, tomorrow night at five o'clock in front of the Leaky Cauldron. Just raise your wand to hail the bus. He'll make arrangement for your uniform or kit or whatever it is you wear," she said, straining to force a friendly smile.

"Well, sounds marvelous doesn't it?" he said venomously.

"Yes, super – now be back here in two weeks and I'll show you to Cynthia, who'll be your regular case officer," Hermione said and slapped her palms on the desk to end the meeting. "Oh, if you have any trouble connecting with Ernie, report back here immediately. Remember, if you fail to show up for this assignment at any time, it's mandatory Azkaban!"

"Gee, thanks for reminding me,"

‡‡‡‡‡

Hermione fumbled for the key to the front door to her flat. She was digging through a plethora of junk in her handbag while balancing a small bag of groceries across her knee. All the fishing produced nothing, but she knew the key was in there somewhere. When it didn't turn up, she looked around for anyone that might be watching. There were none.

"Alohomora," she softly conjured the spell and the door latch clicked open.

Winky was in the back finishing up some cleaning as Hermione sat the grocery items in the kitchen.

"Good evening Miss," she said and then eyed the groceries. "Can I fix you something before I leaves Miss Hermione?"

"Oh no Winky that'll be fine. Everything looks wonderful!" she said as she looked around at the furnishings and floors that were cleaned and polished to a shine.

"Well thank you Miss, but you must let me fix you something. You looks tired, you does."

"It has been a long day – I'll tell you what. You can fix something if you'll stay and have something with me," Hermione said.

"You shouldn't worry your pretty head about ol Winky, but if you insists I'll be glad to."

"I insist Winky. I'll change clothes and be back in a minute."

"Yes Mam."

Closing the bedroom door, she quickly peeled out of the work clothes. The frock and heels came off first, followed by the underclothes, and the cute undersize bra that was overdue for the dustbin. A quick vanity check in the mirror confirmed nothing was too worse for the wear. Little pink indentations were visible where the bra had cut into the skin, and the hair that had been magically enhanced into the straight pageboy was beginning to resume it's natural curl. She massaged out the tender pink indentations the bra had left under her breasts and then squeezed into a faded and comfy pair of jeans. She threw a Tee shirt over her head and wriggled into it. Well-worn and comfortable ballet flats completed the casual ensemble. After another spot-check in front of the mirror, she made her way back into the kitchen.

"Whatever you've started – it already smells good."

"Onion soup, fresh bread, and some warmed-up pork pie from the icebox. Is that suitable Miss?"

"Sounds fine," Hermione said and went thumbing through the evening edition of the _Daily Prophet_.

"Dids you have a good day today Miss?", Winky asked and poured Hermione a small cup of tea.

"A full day Winky. How did the cleaning go today... good?"

"Yes mam... very good. There was a stain on the floor, but it came out with a little scrubbing."

"Sorry you had to go to the trouble – here, have a seat and get something to eat," she said and motioned to a chair.

"Thank you. You are most kind miss," Winky replied and struggled with short legs to pull herself into the chair. "Did you see Mr. Draco today miss?"

Hermione raised a brow at the question.

"Well yes I did. How did you know Draco was coming in today?"

"Oh – er – well, you know the house-elves, they talk a lot about the Malfoys. I've never really known why?" she explained with a puzzled look.

"Do they really? So what about Winky?"

"Oh – I don't really know miss. Jest gossip really. I guess house-elves, they're just curious about how rich folks lives," she said nibbling on a slice of fresh baked bread.

"I guess you're right Winky. I guess most of us would be curious how the rich folks live," she said and chuckled to herself.


	4. The Knight Bus

**4. The Knight Bus**

Draco Malfoy was waiting patiently by the Leaky Cauldron when it started to rain. There was no sign of the Knight Bus or Ernie Prangs and the rain was getting thicker by the minute. On top of that his extended arm was aching from trying, for the longest time it seemed, to hail the bus. Occasionally a patron from the Cauldron would exit from the squeaky doors and give him a look that seemed to question his mentality before shaking their head and walking away. Right now, if he had Granger in front of him, he would strangle her scrawny neck – well maybe just choke her a bit. In any case the thought was the only comforting one he had on this dark, rainy, and lousy evening. After another jolly patron's exit was announced by the squeaking door, a clever thought hit him.

"Say, you there," Draco called out to the man.

"You mean me sir?" the man replied with a look of curiosity and amusement.

"Yes you sir – would you like to earn some money?"

The man looked completely puzzled and a little annoyed but curiosity seemed to get the better of him.

"Earn some money – doing what?" he asked as he scrutinized Draco's position. "And what are you pointing your wand at?"

"I'm not pointing my wand," Draco fired back, completely annoyed. Thinking better of his situation, he softened his tone. "I'm trying to hail the Knight bus you see – I have to catch the bus tonight."

"What does a gentleman like yourself need with the Knight bus? Can't you apparate or ride a broom?"

Once again, Draco could feel his anger trying it's best to rise up. After taking a moment to forget the asinine remark, he cleared his throat to speak.

"I'm not trying to catch a ride – I desperately need to catch someone on the bus," he said plainly.

"Oh – I see, well good luck with that," the man said and moved to walk away.

"Hey, you want to earn a couple of Galleons or what," Draco called out. The man stopped and turned around.

"For what?"

"I need a break. If you could try and hail the bus for me while I step inside and have a drink and something to eat, I'll pay you a couple of Galleons," Draco said encouragingly.

"Oh, I couldn't do that. I've got an appointment you see."

Draco looked hard at the man and did his best to size him up. He didn't look like the type that kept important appointments. Maybe an offer of more money would do the trick.

"Okay, five Galleons. What do you say?"

"Could you make it ten?" the man asked sheepishly. Draco winched. Ten Galleons – the man was being completely rapacious.

"Okay, you've caught me in a tight spot. Five now and the rest when you hail the bus," Draco said and reluctantly handed the man five Galleons.

"Thanks," he said and stuffed the money in his pocket.

"You drive a mean deal," Draco said, and quickly turned for the Leaky Cauldron. He looked back to make sure the wizard had his wand extended to hail the bus.

Inside, the Leaky Cauldron was warm and glowing with a cheery atmosphere and soft cackling din. The place was packed, but there was a single table close to a large open hearth and roaring fire. With a few quick steps, and side stepping the slower patrons, the table was his. A few minutes later he was enjoying a butterbeer with hot soup and a buttered and toasted cheese sandwich. He called for a refill on his drink and grabbed an evening edition of the _Daily Prophet_. The results of his court case were on the second page along with a photograph of him leaving the courtroom. "Don't these people have anything better to print," he muttered to himself and threw the the paper down.

After a time, when the fire had dried his cold damp clothes and the beer and food were long gone he had very nearly drifted off to sleep. Nodding from consciousness to sleep and back, he heard a commotion by the door as several old witches and wizards entered the pub. _Hm-mm... That damn bus should have been here by now. Better check._

Reluctantly extracting himself from the chair, he drug over to the front door and peeped out. Nothing. No Knight bus and the street was empty. The wizard he paid the five Galleons to was nowhere in sight. This could be trouble – real trouble. He'd have to think of something and fast.

‡‡‡‡‡

"Lunch is almost ready sir – can I draw you some bath water?"

Groaning, Draco tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

"What time is it Gilbert?" he asked the little house-elf.

"It's almost twelve sir," the elf said and looked back with stern elfish impatience.

"Oh hell... yeah, draw the water I'll get up in a minute," he said with a drawl.

"Arrg..." he moaned and threw his hands over his eyes. There sat the goofy conductor uniform on the chair. And just when he was beginning to think it had all been a bad dream.

The uniform, the corny cap and the awful coin changer, the whole ridiculous outfit was laying on the chair where he had left it. It had taken nearly all night to find the Knight Bus. He had apparated over half of London before spotting the bus stopped at Tottenham Court Road. Ernie Prangs had to be half blind and only knew to how to avoid the things that absolutely couldn't get out of the way. How they got through the night without a major accident was a minor miracle.

Ernie couldn't get it through his Owlish looking head, he was supposed to meet with Draco. According to his instructions he was supposed to meet Draco Tuesday night. It was Tuesday night, he explained, that the Knight bus stopped at the Leaky Cauldron at five o'clock. No doubt, Granger had the time screwed up. Ernie managed to pull a trunk out of the back of the bus that was stocked with uniforms and hats. With several curious old witches eying his every move, Draco changed behind a curtain and went straight away to work. It quickly became obvious that many of the bus occupants had nowhere in particular to go. Some would sleep. Some would talk, laugh, and cackle endlessly, but all rode along without the least concern as to where they were or where they were going. Only one old wizard actually got off the bus. The rest of the passengers rode until daybreak and then got off the bus, still cackling, to trudge along in the hopes of finding better daytime lodging. Many would have a trunk or suitcase to manage, and he would have to wrestle with their baggage and make change from the rickety coin changer and pass out tickets.

All he had to show for a nights work was stiff muscles and a thin layer of oily grime. But the ill effects didn't stop there. It managed to suck the life and spirit from you quicker than a Dementor's kiss. Draco had no idea how he would manage to endure this abuse for a solid year.

The only glimmer of hope in this entire depressing mess was knowing that the Knight Bus didn't run on weekends. On the weekends he'd be as free as a bird. He would have to get in touch with Astoria and make plans for the weekend. That would be the best way to recover from a solid week of this abusive toil and blow off steam. They should be able to plan a weekend at his parents lake-house. He could already imagine a candlelight dinner, a cold bottle of wine, and later, the two of them snuggling in front of a blazing fire. He began to smile as his imagination carried him further. Now the two of them were coiled like two ells in front of the fire. And now overheated, the excess layers of clothing were beginning to peel off. A look of deep contentment fell over him as they slowly...

"Master Draco, the bath is ready sir..."

‡‡‡‡‡

Damn, two lousy weekends in a row, he mused to himself as he entered the atrium of the Ministry building. Last weekend Astoria had been committed to a boring and rather formal affair, of which he had accompanied her as her escort. And the week before that, she had joined her parents on an out of town trip to visit family. The cozy weekend getaways he had envisioned had never materialized, and he was still left wondering what he could do to lift his spirits, which were at an all time low. Maybe this next weekend would turn out better.

"Good morning sir!" greeted the little security guard.

"I suppose you'll have to check my wand," Draco replied..

"Ministry regulations sir," he said with a smile and Draco handed the wizard his wand.

"Well, I hope it works better this time," Draco barked.

"Oh yes, I heard about that problem. It was not your original wand, was it?"

"No it's a replacement."

After a few quick swirls of the antenna like scanning device a little piece of paper shot out of the machine.

"Yes, ten inches of Hawthorn with a unicorn hair core – Draco Malfoy," the little wizard announced proudly.

"Yes – I already knew that," he said arrogantly and snatched the wand back.

Snubbing the lift attendant that gave him the runaround on his last visit, he ducked into the correct lift.

"Department of Magical Law enforcement," he snapped and the attendant made no reply, but closed the scissor bar door and set the lift into motion. After the normal amount of jostles and jolts the lift finally slammed to a stop.

"Department of Magical Law enforcement sir," the attendant managed to get out.

"Thanks loads."

Down the long halls the tiles slipped past in a depressing grey repetition. People would walk by with bright smiling faces and a cheery 'good morning' greeting. It was enough to make you sick. Now somewhere in this menagerie was the short hall he was looking for. But the last person he was looking for was heading straight for him – Ron Weasley.

"Hello Weaselbee," Draco muttered with a smirk nod.

"Sod off Malfoy. What do you mean strutting about here with that same old bile?" Ron said, he face becoming as red as the hair on his head.

"Alright, alright. Nothing to get upset about," Draco said, feeling at a disadvantage. This was certainly no place to pick a fight, he thought as Ron was backing him into the wall.

"That'll do," Hermione yelled, poking her head out of her office door. "Right this way Draco."

Ron backed away enough for Draco to squeeze out of the uncomfortable situation and head to Hermione's office. Her office was as dull and bare as he remembered. A small desk and reading lamp with an uncomfortable wooden chair beside the desk. The bookshelf, while full, was plain and scuffed and scared through years of Ministry abuse. He grabbed the wooden chair and glanced back to make sure Ron didn't follow.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked as she casually thumbed through several sheets of parchment.

"How would I know. Weasley is a bit touchy this morning," he said, shaking his head.

Hermione never looked up but continued to turn through the parchment, her eyes carefully tracing out each line of text. She shook her head then dropped the parchment on the desk.

"So how would you evaluate your performance over the last two weeks Draco?" she asked, her hazel eyes lifting quickly to meet his.

Again, the chestnut hair was straightened into the nifty pageboy. Clever trick. She was mostly hidden behind freshly pressed full-cut robes. When she had walked around the desk, she appeared slightly taller and her footfalls sounded as if she was wearing heels. After several moments of silence her cauldron sized and hazel colored peepers began to narrow as she canted her head slightly, as if to prod him into speaking.

"I don't know – what does your report say?" he answered indifferently.

"Well, it's a long report. But the short version – it says your performance was lousy," she said then drew her lips tightly.

"I thought Ernie was pleased with the work," he said with a shrug. "At least I showed up every day – thought that should be good enough."

"That's a piss poor attitude Draco. Is that the way everything is with you. Damn, you haven't changed since school."

"If you say so – hey, I thought you were turning me over to someone else Granger?"

"Yes, well, Cynthia developed acute Laryngitis and won't be able to return for a while. Are you eager to get rid of me?" she asked and then cracked a slight smile.

"Heaven forbid. Wouldn't think of it," he said mockingly. He couldn't help but notice the smiling eyes. He didn't ever recall Granger smiling in front of him before. "You must be really enjoying this."

"Immensely, but back to business. This performance report implies you're barely doing any work at all. If you don't buck-up and dig a little deeper, this opportunity may be revoked. You'll find Cynthia a lot tougher than I am," she cautioned.

"Opportunity? You've got to be kidding. Since when did making me look like a fool in a clowns costume become an opportunity?" He said defensively. "I don't deserve this," he added shaking his head.

"You were found guilty Draco and originally sentenced to _Azkaban..._ Remember?"

"I didn't deserve that either. And guilty of what? Okay, I signed some papers. Does that make it fair – sending me to Azkaban for three months? Is that fair Hermione?"

‡‡‡‡‡

She couldn't believe it. She almost fell off the chair. She had never, ever, heard Draco Malfoy refer to her by her first name. And why was he still pleading his innocence? The verdict of the court had been delivered ages ago, but Draco was still doing his best to convince her otherwise.

"But you didn't get sentenced to Azkaban Draco, you've got a chance to improve yourself with this public service duty," she explained slowly. "And this was not just about signing papers. It was all too clear who you supported during the war," she added patiently.

"Well, however I'm to be perceived by others, I did what I had to do. My family expected it of me," Draco said slowly.

There was a lack of expression in his face. There he sat, calmly, and the grey eyes cut straight to hers. Was it arrogance or total self-assurance with Draco. She couldn't tell. For some reason, he was trying to convince her of his innocence. Why, she wondered.

"Well, that's all behind us now, and what I think doesn't really matter," she declared and Draco frowned. "This is all that matters right now," she added and lifted the performance report to demonstrate.

"And just exactly how is all of this supposed to matter – me in a clown suit – how does this matter?"

"You mean the conductor's uniform?" she asked and dropped the back on the desk.

"Yes, it's ridiculous."

"I suppose it is," she said grinning at the image he had conjured. "But it goes with the job. It's not too likely you'll run into anyone you know on the Knight bus."

"And how is this punishment designed to help? This public humiliation," he retorted.

"It's not intended as punishment or humiliation. It's correction and you're not going to see the light of this overnight. It may take some time, but this work assignment could provide useful experience in the future – if you let it. But if you retain this negative attitude then nothing will come of it. That's for sure," she said firmly.

This was more than she had ever said to Draco Malfoy in her life. Up to this point, all they had exchanged were verbal insults or jinxes from the ends of their wands. And now she was talking to him like a professional counselor. He didn't answer, but sat there, bold as brass with an upright posture and never wavering. A sliver of blonde hair had fallen and was conspicuously bisecting a grey eye. She wished he would swipe it away, but he didn't.

"You really believe that huh? Have you always been this way Granger or has the Ministry put all this in your head?" he asked sullenly.

"We're not here to talk about me," she added and he finally cracked a smile.

"Okay, you've caught me there, but it's a little easier to talk if it's a two-way conversation."

Hermione smiled the narrowest of smiles. Was that what he wanted? To simply engage in conversation? It was obvious he didn't want to talk about the work assignment. He was perfectly happy to talk about anything but work. It would be best to stick to business and not let him draw her off-guard with more catty questions.

"Can you do this work Draco? Would one of the other jobs be more attractive? Until you get used to the idea of work that is?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Can you do this job or not? I need to know?" she asked, firmly.

"Yeah, I think so," he answered with a disinterested gaze.

"Well then, be back here in two weeks. Cynthia should be back by then," she said and stood up to signal the meeting was over. He quickly followed her lead, slowly rising from the stiff wooden chair.

"Okay, sure... two weeks."

"Now, are there any other questions?" she asked, raising her brow.

‡‡‡‡‡

"Yeah, I got a couple," he asked and she returned a quizzical expression. "What about Weasley? Do I have to suffer his abuse as well?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Will I have to deal with him every time I come in here?"

She appeared caught off guard by this. He didn't care for the cramped office or the hard wooden chair and he especially didn't care to confront Weasley every two weeks. They were several steps outside her office as she paused and wriggled her nose to ponder the question.

"I suppose we could meet in the canteen. Would that be neutral ground?" she asked with a smile that was merely a professional courtesy.

"Sure. That should work," and he nodded approvingly.

"Well, then stop by the courier's desk in the Atrium and send a note when you arrive. I'll meet you in the canteen with Cynthia." She began to turn away and then stopped.

"Oh, and what's the other question?"

"Why the robes Granger? I mean, we've been out of school for years now."

She glared back harshly drawing her eyes into slits. "With some positions at the Ministry they're customary," she barked and exhaled with disgust for having addressed the question. "And don't forget the note!"

She spun on one high heel and headed back to her office. The robes lifted a bit to show a really fit calf and narrow ankles in dark blue hosiery. Damn the baggy robes. He couldn't help but wonder how she would look properly dressed.

"Okay. I'll send the note," he said through a laugh as she walked away. Maybe properly undressed was what he really meant.

* * *

AN: A lot of plot positioning and character development in this chapter. Things will spin up! Thanks for reading...

Oops almost forgot Cynthia - added her back in the end of the chapter and some cleanup...


	5. The Ruse

The chapters have been coming out fairly quickly. Not sure that will continue as work resumes after the new year. Thanks for reading.

* * *

**5. The Ruse**

Kingsley Shacklebolt studied Draco's performance reports under the light of the green bankers lamp and nodded with a look of satisfaction.

"This is much better than the last report. What the hell did you say to him Hermione?"

"Nothing really sir. I just tried to explain the situation as best I could. Never thought any of it really sunk in," she said with shrug of her shoulders.

"Well, whatever – something has sure made a difference."

"Yes sir."

"Oh, and on this protracted illness of Cynthia's – very strange really. They'll be running some tests at St. Mungo's. Well, what I'm trying to say is, with her problems and the progress you're making here – I'd like you to make this thing with Malfoy a permanent assignment."

"Me sir?" she asked with a look of bewilderment.

"Yes you. If we could turn the Malfoys into a useful element of the Magical community it would be nothing less than a major coup," he said and smiled broadly.

"Well, yes sir," she said and stared blankly at the wall.

"You don't have a problem with this assignment?" he asked with an expression of concern.

"Oh, no sir. Not at all," she replied and bit her lip nervously for telling the fib.

"Good. Good. You know, performance reviews and promotions will be evaluated here very shortly. With the enormous contributions you've made this year – you're up for promotion. Just thought I should let you in on that," he added smiling.

"Thank you sir!"

Hermione trudged back to her office, trying her best to put the things Kingsley told her into perspective. The thought of continuing the assignment with Draco was somewhat troubling. Draco was a wild card and there was no telling what he might do from one week to the next. She had always strived for excellence in every task given to her. But with this assignment she felt almost helpless to control the outcome. What if Draco jumped ship and was never found again? It would look horrible on her performance review. A good review and a promotion would likely mean an increase in pay as well. That would certainly come in handy for her and Ron right now.

But there was one thing she couldn't tell Kingsley and she even had trouble admitting it to herself. It was obvious things had changed since school days. Draco was different – much different, and she had changed as well. She would have to be very tough with Draco every step of the way. But it would help tremendously if he wasn't so damned good looking.

‡‡‡‡‡

Perhaps she's been too sensitive, but Draco's remark about the work robes and school days had cut deeply. After all the hard work she'd put in at the Ministry she didn't relish being likened to the naïve schoolgirl? When they met today in the canteen she would go on a different tack. Smart business casual might leave Mr. Malfoy with the impression she meant business. Sold on that approach, she reached into her wardrobe and pulled out her midnight blue jacket. She reached for a thin strapped vest but, on a second thought, put it back. The jacket had high lapels and could be worn without the vest. She slipped on the new bra and checked it with cupped hands to adjust the fit. Just loose enough for comfort and heaven forbid a little extra room if needed. It was cleverly adorned with cute straps and a little red rose stitched in the center. She wriggled into a rather snug knee length and matching skirt and tried on the jacket. She was satisfied with the look as the cute bra straps would occasionally peep out. Sliding into the heels she made one last vanity check in the mirror before heading out the door.

It was almost ten o'clock when the note from Draco arrived. It had been a quiet morning with Ron and Harry out somewhere on a local assignment. The halls had been deserted for most of the morning. She slipped off the black work robes and hung them on the hanger in her office. Gathering together the sheets of parchment that made up Draco's performance report, she made her way to the canteen.

Draco was nowhere in sight when she entered the canteen. Grabbing a cup of coffee and a table in plain sight, she re-read the report. How would she play this today? The report was sterling, but she'd best play it safe and not be too complimentary. He was only a few weeks into the work assignment and the finish line was a long way off. Well where the hell was he, anyway? Probably lost again, she thought when at that moment soft footsteps could be heard just outside the door. Sick of the glowing report, she looked up casually to see the tall and darkly clad figure sauntering her way.

"Sorry, got a little turned around. These boring halls – they all look the same," he said apologetically.

"That's Okay Draco. Have a seat... oh, get some coffee if you like," she added and pointed toward the coffee at the end of the canteen line.

He turned toward the line as if to consider her suggestion. Again he was wearing the dark jacket and a light airy shirt. The custom cut trousers were riding a bit low and held up, it appeared, only by the bulge of his derriere. Scolding herself for looking, she concentrated instead on the expensive pair of jet black oxfords that completed the outfit.

"No... thanks. It's a bit late for me," he said and pulled up a chair. He leaned back with a wry smile and a cat-like contented look.

"Well, this is quite an improvement," she managed to say and placed the report gently on the table. She could feel his grey eyes drinking their fill and she squirmed slightly. "So... how did you manage it?" she added with a shrug.

"You know, I'm not completely sure Granger. I guess we all have good weeks and bad ones. Well, these two went fairly well," he replied with a casual looseness.

"You're not giving me much to go on," she added, shaking her head.

"What else do you need Granger?" he asked, puzzled.

"You forget this is an exercise for us as well. If we've done something right handling your case we'd like to know what it is."

Draco shrugged and finally replied, "I'll think about that and let you know."

"Well that's really decent of you. I'll include your generosity in my report," she said and returned a stern look.

He smiled and said, "Oh, don't be put off. If things are still going well by next time, I'll have an explanation – I promise."

"And I'll hold you to it. Well good luck over the next couple of weeks," she said and rose from the table.

"We're done here?" he asked, with a look of surprise.

"See how simple things are when you do what you're supposed to."

"Do what I'm told to you mean. Where's your friend - Cynthia? I thought you were turning me over?" he asked and raised a brow.

"Unfortunately, she's still unable to resume her duties, and Kingsley has ordered me to take over, so it looks like you're stuck with me now. Sorry," she said with a coy shrug.

"Oh... Well, sorry about your friend, but good luck with with your new assignment," he said with a grin.

"You just continue to do a good job," she said and smiled for the first time.

They paused standing for a moment and he looked her over conspicuously. First down and then back up.

"Glad you lost the robes. You look nice today Granger," he said nodding. Still cocky and smiling.

"Flattering comments won't get you out of work Draco," she said sternly.

"So why do you think the compliment isn't genuine Granger?" he added with a grin and immediately turned to leave.

‡‡‡‡‡

There was something vaguely out of place about the interview, and Hermione didn't like it. She couldn't quite place her finger on it – perhaps it was a woman's intuition, but she suspected she was being played. Draco was back to his old cocky and cavalier self as if living in that disconnected reality in the Wiltshire mansion. Two weeks ago he was in a panic over having to do real work, now he looked as though he just arrived from a holiday in the country.

At the front door to her flat, she scrambled for her door key. With a little luck it turned up just where she thought it should be. Winky was in the kitchen cleaning and she ducked unnoticed into her bedroom to change. She hung up the jacket and and slipped out of the skirt and stripped comfortably naked before sliding into a faded pair of jeans and wriggling into a warm cardigan. She threw on an old pair of trainers and returned to the kitchen.

"Good evening Miss," Winky said looking up. "How was your day today?"

"A fair day Winky – guess I can't complain. If we have something to warm up – can you stay and have something to eat?"

"Well yes Miss Hermione. That's very kind of you."

In a few minutes, she and Winky had a small meal on the table of soup and sandwiches. They ate quietly at first and then Hermione remembered Winky's connections to the house-elves at Malfoy manor. She had a thought that was a little underhanded, but nothing compared to what the Malfoys were capable of.

"Say Winky – you know a house-elf at Malfoy Manor don't you?"

Winky's huge eyes got even bigger.

"Well – uh – yes Miss. Yes I, I do," she stammered.

"I remembered that sometimes you talk to those elves – right?" Hermione persisted.

"Uh... yes Miss. Sometimes I do."

"Well, do they still mention Draco? And if they do – how is his job working out? Do you know?"

An elfish look of relief washed over her face. "Oh I see. You wants to know about Mister Draco," Winky said with a look of calm. "Well, the gossip is Miss is that Mister Draco done quit his job," she said, most disapprovingly.

"Quit his job – Winky, are you sure?"

"That's what the gossip says Miss," Winky announced, rolling her huge glassy eyes.

‡‡‡‡‡

"Hermione are you sure about this? Ernie insists Draco is still working and doing a decent job," Kingsley Shacklebolt said with a troubled expression.

"I think we can rely on Winky sir. In any case we don't have to completely rely on her," she said flatly.

"Don't follow you there," he returned with a puzzled expression.

"We could prove this by using someone like a secret shopper," she said with wide eyes.

"A secret shopper?"

"Yes sir, we employ someone for a night or two to take a ride on the bus to see what's going on here."

"Oh, yes I see what you mean. But who could we get?" he asked.

"I was thinking of using odd-job Oldowe," she announced proudly.

"Yeah, he might be just right for this kind of thing," Kingsley said, scratching his ear.

Fergus Oldowe, AKA odd-job Oldowe or just odd-job, was a well known squib that worked all kind of odd and end jobs for the Ministry. The only one that stuck was a job escorting magically bound prisoners to and from Azkaban. But it wasn't anything like full time work, so he filled in with all kinds duties and jobs that needed performing.

"If he's okay with you sir, I'll send him an Owl."

‡‡‡‡‡

Two days later Fergus Oldowe trudged into Hermione's office and stuck his head in the door.

"Hello there," Fergus announced in a scruffy voice.

"Oh hello Fergus – come in," she said and pointed to the chair by her desk. "How are things?"

Fergus was a huge burly man and normally as gentle as a lamb. He had a beard of white hair and was, as usual, dressed in a hounds tooth coat and cap. He had a little trouble fitting in the small wooden chair beside Hermione's desk.

"Oh – canna complain I guess. And you Miss?"

"Well that depends on what you've found Fergus," she said with a wry smile.

"I been on that bus for two nights Miss, and your man – well he wah there – both nights. And doing a fair job, I might add."

_Oh dear – how could Winky have been so mistaken. Now I've done it – I'll look like a total fool._

"Fergus... are you sure? A tallish guy with blonde hair?" she implored.

"Yeah – a tall fella and hair as white as snow," he said almost apologetically.

"Oh what a mess," she said with her head in hands. "It could be someone using Polyjuice Potion," she added bitterly.

They both sat there for several minutes that felt like an hour, each giving the other puzzled looks.

"Wait a minute – just one minute," Hermione said and raised a forefinger into the air like an apple had fallen on her head. She jumped up and left the room to appear a few moments later with an article from the Daily Prophet with a good likeness of Draco on the front page.

"Fergus, is this who you saw?" she asked and handed Oldowe the article.

He studied the picture with a expression of puzzlement.

"Uh... no Miss. It's not the same person – it's close but not the same," he said.

‡‡‡‡‡

"So you see sir, Draco has probably hired someone that looks just like him to do the work!" she exclaimed to Kingsley with a touch of discovery in her voice. "Ernie Prangs is nearly blind and couldn't tell them apart. Even Odd-job had a little trouble," she added.

"Brilliant! I'll send an Auror to pick up the imposter and we'll know the whole story by tomorrow. As far as Draco is concerned – of course he'll have to make up the time he skipped out on," he said while lighting his pipe. "I'll let you decide the rest, but you must warn him – if he pulls something like this again, it's Azkaban for sure," he said pointing the pipe stem toward Hermione.

"Yes sir, I'll make that very plain."

The next morning, Hermione listened to the blonde headed charlatan explain the whole story to her and Kingsley, in Kingsley's office. She immediately sent Draco an Owl with a message and a stern warning:

* * *

Draco,

Be in my office tomorrow at your first convenience.

Fail to do so and you will face dire consequences.

Officially Yours,

Hermione Granger.

* * *

‡‡‡‡‡

Draco had a small butterfly getting bigger in the base of his stomach. The plan had been foolproof, so how in the hell had Granger figured out his game so fast? The first Owl had been from his blonde headed double telling him the gig was over. The second Owl from the Ministry arrived shortly thereafter. He had no idea what action the Ministry would take as he slowly filed down the long corridor toward Granger's office. Would they cancel the public service gimmick and send him to Azkaban? Possibly. But the thought didn't particularly scare him. Oddly enough, what had first entered his mind when the Owl arrived – what initially bothered him – was that his meetings with Granger would be over.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully with his head poked in Hermione's office doorway.

"Have a seat Draco," she replied calmly while studying the report. There was a few moments of uncomfortable silence. "Well... do you want to start things off or should I," she finally added.

"I'm sure it's all in your report Granger," he said, looking uncomfortable now. "I'm in your hands," he said with a smirk and a shrug.

"Yes you are Draco. You know I'm disappointed – I really am. But right now I'm pissed off. You made me look like a fool in front of superiors. If you _ever_... pull anything like this again, I will _personally_ escort your arse to Azkaban," she said forcefully and slammed the report on her small desk. The straight hair was beginning to curl back to it's natural bushy form. When the wave of anger had subsided, the hair fell limp and straight again.

"You sound angry Granger," Draco said with a disinterested gaze. "How did you catch me, by the way?"

"Hey look – this is what you need to be worried about," she said pointing to a pile of parchment on the desk. "Your next assignment. The Knight Bus job is over now. It's bedpans at St. Mungo's or cleaning the Thames trout from the gutters of Knockturn Alley – you decide," she said, still angrily tapping her index finger.

Draco leaned back and looked away for a moment while considering his options. The Malfoys had donated money to St. Mungo's and his father had once done a favor for Hippocrates Smethwyck, the head healer. Draco felt Smethwyck might be able to return the favor.

"I'll take the bedpans Granger. Don't like working outside this time of year."

"Draco, it's obvious you don't like working any time of year," she said, fishing a piece of parchment out of the pile. She retrieved the parchment and copied something onto a note and handed it to Draco.

"That's the person you'll have to see for your work assignment at the hospital," she added. Draco looked at the note and had to fight off a grin. It was Hippocrates Smethwyck.

The anger having passed by as quickly as a summer storm, Hermione looked at Draco now with genuine concern. "I really have no idea what you'll be doing. Maybe it won't be too bad Draco."

Draco nodded without the least bit of worry. "Yeah – maybe you're right."

Still perplexed with the man in front of her, she had to ask, "Why did you do it Draco?"

"Why did you not send me to Azkaban Granger," he asked looked at her firmly.

"If I answer your question, will you answer mine?" she replied.

"I don't know that I can – that's the best I can do for now."

"Well, that's not good enough Draco."

She had switched back to pissed off. And back to wearing the boring work robes this week. Granger had definitely filled out in the right places since school days. He fondly recalled their previous meeting. He almost lost it that day when she sat down in front of him and the lapels of the jacket fell open. His greedy eyes quickly raced down the creamy skin into a warm crevice of cleavage and down to the limits of the decorative lace bra. The legs were also nice and fit , encased in dark slick hosiery. Narrow ankles, nice gams, yep the whole package was good. But now it looked as if things were back to step one.

"I'm sorry. I really am. So... are we back to the canteen for our next meeting?"

With a look of reluctance, she nodded.


	6. St Mungo's

**AN:** Looking at the outline for this chapter, the material left was so scant I almost skipped it. It had been absorbed into previous chapters. But the story needed a lead-in or break before continuing so here it is. It turned out fairly well and prepares the reader for the next chapter.

Thanks for reading and the reviews and favs.

* * *

**6. St. Mungo's**

Hippocrates Smethwyck was from a long line of healers. No one really knew for sure when it started, but one of the Smethwycks helped save the life of one the Malfoys many years ago; and ever since that day, the families had been friends. Hippocrates was a wonderful healer but a terrible gambler. So when the news of his unpaid gambling debts threatened to destroy his position at St. Mungo's he called Lucius Malfoy for help.

With this story in mind, Draco was headed toward St. Mungo's this morning with confidence. Hopefully Hippocrates would be able to find him a suitable position and this humiliating public service would pass by in no time. He made his way to the condemned building of Purge and Dowse, Ltd. Double checking to make sure no one was watching, he smiled and stepped through the old window and magical passageway to the hospital. Entering St. Mungo's, he stopped at the reception's desk and then continued down the long sea-green corridors that were not really like the sea at all but some unnatural color of green found only in schools and hospitals. The air was strong with the smell of disinfectant and healers were pleasantly going about their business of curing the various maladies of the magically ill.

Hippocrates was in a large corner office on the first level. Like all the other healers, he was wearing a lime green frock. Hippocrates was returning a large medical volume to it's place in the bookshelf when Draco arrived and tapped lightly on the door frame.

"Excuse me sir," he said softly and the old wizard snapped around to take full notice. He had a pleasant round face and the top of his head was slick and bald while the sides had bushy white hair growing in all directions. He had piercing blue eyes that were now focused keenly on Draco.

"Oh hello – you must be Draco. Close the door and have a seat young man," Hippocrates said in good spirits.

Hippocrates' office was a massive affair with loads of natural lighting. There were bookshelves along the walls lined with countless medical volumes. Skeletons of magical creatures stood framed in action poses as if trapped forever in the lens of a fluoroscope machine. There were jar after jar of no-longer functioning body parts floating in formaldehyde, and house-elf heads peering out of jars in as if caught in the last gasp of life before being separated forever from their bodies.

Draco took a seat in a large leather padded chair across from Hippocrates' desk.

"Oh my yes – you look so much like your father. You know Lucius and I go a long way back," he said.

"Yes sir – I heard that story from Mother just the other day," Draco answered.

"Yes, well... we all make mistakes don't we. I can tell you, if the team that _should_ have won the world cup that year had done so – well, I wouldn't have had to call your father for help," he said with a chuckle.

"Yes sir."

"But, the point is, I quit betting on Quidditch matches after that day. _So_... Draco, I have a report here from the Ministry. I'm guessing you know what it says," he said peering over half-moon style reading glasses.

"Probably... I'm hoping you can find me something that might be a little more dignified than my last assignment," he said shaking his head.

"A conductor on the Knight bus it says?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Draco, I'll help you every way I can, but I must tell you the Ministry will be watching things closely for the first month or so," he said with a stern look. "During that period, it will have to appear to the Ministry that they're getting their money's worth, if you take my meaning."

"I understand sir," he said and slumped sullenly. "Emptying bedpans?"

Hippocrates laughed out loud, "Oh no, no – nothing that bad, and after the Ministry decides they have better things to do than keeping a close eye on you, hopefully we can find find you something 'more dignified' I believe you said."

"Thank you sir. I'm sure you will," Draco said and nodded resolutely.

"Do you like children Draco?" Hippocrates asked and squinted an eye.

Draco was totally taken back by the question.

‡‡‡‡‡

Ron leaned around Hermione and asked the hostess for a balcony seat. It was the same little pub they had found a few weeks earlier and both left with a favorable impression and were eager to return. They were seated on the balcony at the same table they had before. The lighting was warm and the atmosphere had a casual and loose ambiance.

"I like this place," she finally said.

"Yeah, me too," Ron shot back, with a devilish smile and took a good pull from the mug of house ale.

"Have you started your Christmas shopping?" she asked.

"Sure!" he lied and then laughed.

"Liar! But neither have I," she added.

"I figured you'd be done by now," he said, pulling a face.

Hermione just shook her head. "No... waiting for a night Winky can go along."

"Is she shopping too?"

"Oh yeah – she's been saving her money."

Ron laughed at this and shook his head. "Who would have ever thought it."

"Yeah... going shopping with a house-elf – it may be a first," she said, grinning.

"Speaking of firsts," Ron said and took a drink of the ale, "Don't think Harry is coming to the Burrow for Christmas this year."

"Well, that's not to odd. Is he even speaking to Ginny?" she asked.

"No he isn't. And when I ask him about it, I get a strange look with no answer and pretty much the same response from Ginny," he said and furrowed his brows.

"Oh..."

"So what's going on here?" Ron asked, demandingly.

"They're just fighting, I guess," she said and then looked away.

"Okay," he nodded, "about what?"

"It's a long story Ron," she answered soberly.

"I'd like to hear it," he asked and Hermione stiffened a bit.

"Well, he went out on her and she went out on him and he got angry about it," she added as if it was all too simple.

"I thought they agreed to see others – that's what Harry said."

Hermione ducked her head and then glared back at Ron, "He only suggested that so he could go out with Sandy – he didn't give a damn about how Ginny would feel."

"Okay... so he went out with Sandy – Ginny was in school," Ron said sympathetically.

"He was _shagging_ her Ron – how do you think Ginny felt?"

"Oh... I see, well it sounds like she may have got even. So what's the big deal?"

Hermione wanted to play ignorant and just go along with Ron. She wanted to badly, but she couldn't. She knew the truth would dig it's way out sooner or later. Lance had been out of town for some time now, so maybe now was as good a time as any for coughing up the whole story.

"She was going out with Lance Ron," she finally admitted.

"Lance – at the Ministry?" Ron asked, completely dumfounded.

"Yes."

"Bloody hell – no wonder Harry was pissed off. Hold on – how did that happen? Ginny was in school."

Hermione went mute and just stared away into vacant space.

"Did you have a hand in this? Did you introduce them?" he asked, now at the point of being upset.

"Well, how did I know things would turn out the way they did?" she said and played it innocently.

Ron took a hard look at her and thought in silence for a few moment, "Your friend Lance – he didn't didn't come to the UK because of the Ministry training – did he?"

Hermione sat there quietly. She didn't answer Ron's question. She didn't need to. The silence had said enough.

‡‡‡‡‡

Hippocrates was as good as his word – the first few weeks had been rough. Draco had no bedpan duties, but was stuck helping old witches and wizards in and out of wheelchairs all day and doing jobs no one else would touch; a simply rotten assignment. It looked like Granger and the Ministry had him by the bollocks this time. In any case, he wouldn't show the pain of his predicament in front of Granger. As usual, she was reading a report of some kind when he made his way into the Ministry canteen. He was running late today and lunch menus were neatly placed on every table.

"Morning Granger," he said in his cavalier and laconic manner.

"It's closer to lunch," she said with a chuckle. She was sitting demurely and wearing light blue custom fit robes with a matching quill of the same color. They were tighter in the waist and shorter in the hem than the Ministry issued full-cuts.

"Sorry, I had to run an errand for Hippocrates this morning – you got the note – right?" he said, plopping down in the metal chair.

She looked up from the report casually. Her eyes, stirring cauldrons of hazel, took careful aim.

"Yeah, that's fine. So how's work Draco – better?" she asked and finally broke into a smile. He guessed the thought of him doing work was enough to make her smile.

"Fine," he lied and gave a little sullen nod.

"Really - you don't seem too excited about it?" she replied with a calculating demeanor.

"Not as much as you are, I suppose," he fired back, looking firmly back into her hazel eyes. There she sat, as contented as a cat toying with the mouse before the kill. He tried not to think of how good she looked today. He tried instead to concentrate on the knee in the nuts she'd given him. But it didn't work – not at all. Granger had not spent her entire life being beautiful; most of her transformation had been recent. And because of this she had no idea what affect she had on men. But it was this naivety that made her even more attractive.

‡‡‡‡‡

He wasn't going to talk about work – not to convenience her at least. If she let the conversation sway to chit-chat, would it backfire as before?

"You're not going to talk about your work are you?"

"I'd like to hear what the report says."

"It says your performance was adequate," she replied and Draco picked up a lunch menu to study it contents.

"Do you people really eat this stuff? I mean, steak and kidney pudding – come on."

She was getting frustrated with his games. If he sensed he was getting the best of her, things might get worse.

"Not everyone can afford the Savoy for lunch – now back to business," she snapped.

"There's plenty of affordable eateries that can beat this Granger," he said tossing the menu to the table. "And by the way, wouldn't it be better if we conducted this business over lunch. That way, I wouldn't have to interrupt this work that you seem so fond of hearing about," he calmly retorted.

Already, and just a few words into this discussion, he had her pinned against the wall. How could she squeeze out of it?

"We're meeting here because you wanted to avoid Ron or 'Weasley' as you refer to him. If we met over lunch, it would have to be here, and sometimes Ron eats here," she said plainly.

"So why does it have to be here? Would it bother Weasley if we had a business lunch somewhere else, would that upset him?" Draco asked with a slight smile, obviously enjoying this line of conversation.

She thought of ignoring his question and getting back to business. But for a reason she couldn't fathom – not one she could easily admit, she was tempted to continue.

"It probably would – although he has no reason for concern," she quickly added.

"No, of course not," Draco shot back, smiling.

"Would it bother Astoria if we had a business lunch somewhere else?" she asked, chewing on the feather end of the light blue quill.

"It might. Although as you said before, there would be no reason for concern," he added.

"Of course, but it's only because she cares about you," she said, content in the thought the topic was finished.

"Cares about me?" he said and rolled his eyes. "A bit simply put, but more or less correct."

"Oh come on," she said, pulling a face.

"She cares for my money Granger. Not sure how much she cares for me," he added with a nod.

Was he for real? She doubted it. But he had stared back with eyes that never blinked. A forelock of blonde hair had fallen across one of his eyes. She squirmed slightly with a sudden and uncomfortable thought – she'd love to brush it away.

"You'll talk about anything but work, and it's obvious we're finished here today," she said as she rose from the chair. "Okay, I like the lunch idea – we lose less work that way. So, be back here in two weeks for lunch on Wednesday – the Wednesday menu is a little better. We'll continue to meet here until your work improves," she said and folded her arms across her chest.

"What about Weasley?" he asked with a wide eyed expression.

"There's no need to worry about Ron. I don't think he'll be a problem," she said and bowed her head.


	7. Christmas in Diagon Alley

**7. Christmas in Diagon Alley**

Diagon Alley was one of Hermione's favorite places at Christmas time. Peddler's carts clattered on cobblestones under streetlights that were lit and adorned with holly wreaths, ribbons, and bows. The festive alley produced a cacophony of sounds from the bustling traffic to the chorus of carolers and the cackling of so many vendors and shoppers. Smells of pastries baking, scented candles, and evergreens coalesced in the crowded alley. So many shop windows and doors were adorned with little twinkling and blinking lights, and it seemed good cheer and bright spirits were especially contagious along the narrow alley.

It had been a cold and frosty day and the grey skies warned of the snow that was certainly on it's way. Hermione had wanted to come the night before, but Winky had to work a banquet at the castle and insisted they make it tonight instead. Just days before Christmas she was desperate to complete her shopping list. Shopping for gifts had turned into a real challenge for Hermione. She got everyone on her list books. But the recipients never quite appeared to be as delighted as she would expect. It was possible she wasn't finding the right books, so this year she spent much more time in selecting the titles. Ron, in particular just didn't seem to light-up the way he did with other things she gave him. Flourish and Blotts were especially packed on this evening and the clerk appeared to be having difficulty finding one of the books on her list.

"I'm sorry Miss, but I can't find _Wand Psychology and the Wizard _by Wiley Underwood," the clerk admitted apologetically. "If I order tonight, we might could get it from the publisher before Christmas."

"Thanks, but I'll check around first before I take a chance," Hermione said, trying hard to hide her disappointment. She had really wanted to get this book for Harry. It was possible Obscurus Books or Whizz Hard Books might have it in stock.

"I'll just take what I have here," she added and paid the clerk. She checked her coat pocket for the beaded bag with the undetectable extension charm.

"Oh my goodness," she cried, "I've left it at home."

"You've forgotten something Miss?" the clerk asked.

"Yes, I have," she admitted, "and I can't handle all these by myself," she said and the clerk returned a puzzled look. "Wrap and bind them please – I'll try and manage," Hermione added, looking around for any sign of Winky.

"Yes Miss," said the clerk and disappeared with the books. She returned a few minutes later with the pile wrapped in brown paper and bound and tied together with heavy strands of Manilla cord.

Hermione thanked the clerk and struggled out of the shop and into the alley. It was all she could do to manage the load of books through the crowded and icy streets. Winky could apparate back to her flat and get the beaded bag if Hermione could find her. Winky had quickly disappeared to find gifts for her friends. Not many house-elves could buy gifts, but with the money she had earned working for Hermione this would be a first. Sugarplum's Sweet Shop was the next stop for Hermione. She still had to find little Teddy Lupin a few stocking stuffers, since he was too young for books. With a little luck she might run into Winky along the way.

Hermione was trudging along, keeping her eyes on her footing and hoping at any moment to run into Winky. There standing in front of her, a few storefronts down, was a familiar and darkly clad figure. He was wearing a dark cashmere great-coat with snowy blonde hair and a black lacquered, sliver capped, cane. _Damn-it, of all people._ His house-elf Gilbert was beside him and they appeared to be focused on something going on inside the shop. Struggling clumsily, Hermione looked for a place to hide. She had no desire to encounter Draco on this evening. Potage's Cauldron shop was nearly empty and just a few steps away. She could probably duck into the shop before being spotted.

She had met with Draco for lunch in the Ministry canteen a couple of times since his re-assignment to the hospital and things had gotten a bit tricky. His performance reports were okay, but just so. She had the feeling someone on the St. Mungo's staff was covering up for him. He was still reluctant to discuss work and seemed to express a true aversion to anything like it. It was difficult to keep the interview on a professional level. He absolutely loved to steer the discussions away from the business at hand. Several times he had complemented her on her physical appearance and she found this quite awkward. First, comments like that were uncalled for in a professional environment and second, she didn't know if he really meant them to be genuine or if she was just being played. She suspected the later, and when she mentioned this he just laughed and said she didn't how to take a complement. He had quickly grown tired of the Wednesday's menu of roast beef and potatoes in the canteen and suggested they split the distance between the Ministry and the hospital and go somewhere else. She was stalling for time on this one. There really wasn't any solid reason she couldn't, but a little voice in the back of her mind kept reminding her it would be a mistake.

She was almost off the street and into the Cauldron Shop when she heard the call.

"Miss Hermione!"

She turned back to see Winky coming her way with an arm full of gifts.

"Oh... uh Winky," she said, obviously caught in a quandary. She motioned as best she could for Winky to follow her into the shop. She quickly looked in the opposite direction and realized all eyes were on her. Draco and Gilbert had taken full notice and both were frozen with puzzled expressions as to why she was trying to escape. Should she just ignore them and enter the cauldron shop? No, social protocol and the fact that it was nearly Christmas argued in favor of bidding them a greeting of some sort.

"Good evening," she said to Draco and Gilbert. Winky was now gleefully standing at her side.

"Good evening Hermione," answered Draco.

She was a little surprised he used her first name. Draco also appeared to be caught a little off guard himself, but the syllables rolled off his tongue with mastery. Some first time users would over emphasize the wrong ones.

"Looks like someone is a little late with their shopping?" he added before she could disappear into the shop.

"Yes," she said, and stepped back to face the pair. "So what brings you to Diagon Alley tonight Draco? Surely you don't do your own shopping?"

"Well, it's something you seem to approve of Granger," he fired back. Now that the formalities were over, it was back to using her last name. "It's something very close to work – would you like to hear it?"

"Well, I'm kind of tied up right now," she said and looked around while planning her escape.

"Yes, I can see that. Would you like some help with those packages?"

Before she could say no thanks_, _a young lad jumped out the doorway of the Magical Menagerie with a bag overflowing with gifts. He ran up to stand beside Draco and looked curiously looked her way.

"This is Timmy. Timmy this is Ms. Granger," introduced Draco.

"Good evening Timmy. It looks like you're having a nice time," she said.

"Yes Miss, a very good time," the lad said and grinned. Draco stepped forward to relieve Hermione of a bundle of books.

"That's not necessary – really I can manage," she said

"Timmy, Ms. Granger works at the Ministry. She's the one who assigned me to the hospital."

"Thank you Miss Granger," the lad said, and Hermione was more than a little puzzled by the remark.

"Why don't we all have some tea and cauldron cakes at the Leaky Cauldron? Granger, you must be tired of carrying all that?" Draco said with a wry grin.

"That's very nice of you Draco, but we must be getting along," she said.

"Can you spare a minute Miss?" Gilbert pleaded. "I'm sure Timmy and Winky could use some refreshment," he croaked.

"Yes Miss!" Timmy and Winky chorused.

She felt slightly outnumbered at four to one, "Okay, take one of these then," she said and sourly handed Draco one of the bundles.

‡‡‡‡‡

Inside the Leaky Cauldron, the mood was just as festive as outside except warm and toasty. Winky and Gilbert opted for a nearby table and left Hermione, Draco, and Timmy to one of their own. Draco set the heavy bundle of books on the table.

"What on earth could be this heavy Granger?"

"Uh... just books," she said. "So Timmy, you know Mister Malfoy from the hospital?" she asked curiously.

"Yes, Miss Granger – he works there," he said and looked at Draco with a smile.

Hermione nodded and shot Draco a curious look. Hannah had arrived at the table with a slightly amused expression on her face. No doubt curious at seeing Draco sitting across from her.

"Tea and Cauldron cakes okay with you," he asked Hermione.

"Make mine coffee please," she said looking at Draco and then quickly at Hannah.

"And pumpkin juice for Timmy here," Draco added.

Draco stood up and removed the heavy great-coat. "Can I take your coat Granger?" he said, and she thought it more out of politeness than of concern.

"Sure," she said, and Draco watched her peel out of the coat.

Hermione sipped her coffee and mused at how Draco had won this little battle, which had been going on between them for some time. He had been trying to get her away from the Ministry and now he had. They engaged in pleasant chitchat and the mood began to lighten considerably. She was curious about Timmy and why Draco was treating him to an evening in Diagon Alley. She hoped one of them would volunteer the information, but they didn't. It obviously had something to do with the hospital and she felt it would be a mistake to pry.

While Timmy was scarfing down the cauldron cakes and pumpkin juice, Draco noticed that Winky and Gilbert were sharing a mug of butterbeer with two straws. Neither had legs long enough to reach the floor and their huge feet dangled playfully as they snuggled over the mug of beer without a care in the world.

"I think our house-elves are fond," he said with a look of suspicion.

"Could be," Hermione said and looked away.

When the drinks were finished and Timmy had polished off most of the cauldron cakes Hermione began to fidget.

"Well, we best be shoving off. Winky are you about ready?" she said looking toward Winky and Gilbert.

Winky just shrugged her shoulders and went back to leaning against Gilbert.

"So where are you headed next – maybe we could come along? Timmy would you like to do some more shopping?" Draco asked and Timmy seconded the motion with a huge smile.

Hermione tried quickly to assimilate an excuse.

"Well that would be very nice, but you see, we have to do something with this pile of books – and I thought of running them home – or something like that," she said, obviously ad-libbing.

"I've got a free arm," Draco protested. "Timmy can you carry one of Ms. Granger's books?"

"Oh, I would hate to impose on you," she protested in a panic.

"No trouble at all," he said smiling, "I'll get our coats."

‡‡‡‡‡

Draco handed the silver capped cane to Gilbert and with two gloved hands he grabbed the manilla rope bindings of both book bundles. With their items firmly secured, they headed through the passageway to Diagon Alley. Hermione had considered disapparating to her flat for the beaded bag, but it was so wickedly amusing to watch Draco struggling with the bundles of books.

Gilbert and Winky were patiently walking a few steps behind the group. Gilbert was escorting Winky with his left arm and most nobly wielding the cane, almost as tall as he, with the right. Together, they made a regal pair as they strolled down the alley in the wake of Draco and Hermione, exchanging elfish chitchat. Draco continued to struggle along the icy cobblestones with the heavy books as Hermione paused to consider the passing shops. They arrived at Obscurus Books and Hermione paused at the door.

"What – more books," Draco asked, totally baffled.

"Just one Draco," she said and grinned.

With no luck there, they headed off to Whizz Hard Books. After a few minutes in the shop, Hermione announced, "I found it – it's here." She paid for the book and Timmy volunteered to carry it in his shopping bag.

They passed by Sugarplum's Sweet Shop and there was a line of children waiting to see Santa. Santa had a large chair sitting in the small space between buildings and just off the alley.

"Timmy, is there anything you need to ask Santa?" asked Draco.

"I don't know. Does Santa Claus come to St. Mungo's?"

"Sure he does," Draco said and looked at Hermione, "Can you wait for him?"

"Sure," she said through a smile and nodded.

"Get in line – you'll have plenty of time to think of what you want," Draco added.

As they got a little closer, Hermione was pretty sure she recognized the man playing Santa.

"I'll find out later – what he asked for, " Draco said, and Hermione studied the blonde wizard with puzzled scrutiny.

"Don't be shy Timmy – you go right up and ask for what you want," Draco said and coaxed Timmy up to the huge white bearded man.

‡‡‡‡‡

The festive mood lingered until well in the evening. The group went into several more shops for goodies and whiz-bangs until Timmy had a second bag almost full to the brim. Hermione herself had a small bag of last minute items for Teddy Lupin. All evening, Draco had been a polite, considerate, and thoughtful host. Upon entering one shop, Draco went ahead to open the door and she could feel his hand gently along her back, like the perfect escort. She gave him a wry and curious look, but for him it was probably just a force of habit.

After everyone's list was filled it was time to the call the adventure to an end. Gilbert and Winky said their goodbyes and Winky returned to Hermione's side to help with packages.

"Gilbert, could you and Timmy wait for me at the Leaky Cauldron? I'll be along shortly," asked Draco.

"Yes sir," the house-elf croaked. Timmy said goodnight and they watched them disappear in the crowd.

Once more she looked at Draco and studied him for any clues as to what the hell was going on here.

"Draco, you're making my job awfully difficult."

"It's Christmas Granger – I know when it's over you'll be back to your normal poisonous self," he said with a chuckle.

She laughed and said, "Just as long as you know that, then we're okay here."

"Don't worry Granger, these kinds of things are a part of my job now," he said. "And it's easier than emptying bedpans."

"Yes, but you never mentioned it. Is Timmy part of this job?" she asked.

"Timmy, and a few others. But Timmy is the favorite," he said.

"Yeah, why's that," she asked with bright eyed interest.

"The healers have done wonders with him lately – they really have," he said. "And he doesn't have a proper family."

"So... he's been very sick?" she asked.

"Yes very – oh, the magical treatments have done wonders for him, but will be less effective as time goes on," he said flatly.

"He's not getting better then?"

"Over time his condition will worsen."

"You mean..."

"I'm afraid so," he interjected.

Hermione suddenly felt very bad – she'd been so selfish. Here Draco was taking this child out, for maybe his last Christmas and she'd acted the total bitch for most of the evening.

"Can I help you with the books – to your place?" he asked, still being the gentleman.

"Are you for real," she asked and stifled a laugh. "Thanks, but Winky and I can manage," she said. "But... I had a good time – It was good to run into you," she added and then chuckled. "Why am I talking like I've been out on a date," she said, shaking her head.

Draco responded with only a shrug and a smile.

And at that moment it finally began to snow. Not small flakes, but huge Galleon sized snowflakes were raining down from the heavens. They quickly began to form snow white epaulettes on the shoulders of the dark great-coat. Transfixed by the sight, she stood for a few moments until the situation was getting awkward. The blond hair appeared unaffected by the snow, but a swatch of forelocks had fallen across a grey eye when he bent down to drop the bundles.

She tentatively stepped forward to get the books and then paused as she gazed into grey eyes. Once again she was tempted to brush the hair away. It was a silly emotion but it came from a warm place deep insider her, and she silently cursed the rigid confinements of their situation.

"Wednesdays at the canteen are getting old – you pick the next place," she said smiling.

"Happy Christmas Granger."

"Merry Christmas Draco." And she watched the tall shadowy figure fade through a snowy veil.


	8. The Wager

**8. The Wager**

Hermione wasn't quite sure what she was eating. It was tasty enough and consisted of chunks of seared meat and spiced rice balls with vegetables, all inside in a breaded and cone shaped wrap.

"It's good huh?" Draco said.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, it's tasty – pretty good."

She'd been a little more than suspicious when Draco had changed their luncheon to Friday. The mystery intensified when he told her to meet him at Hackney Downs. She didn't know of any eating establishments on or near Hackney Downs.

"So how did you stumble on this?" she asked between bites.

"I was with some friends last summer. We found the street food over in London South Bank Centre. It's closed now for the winter, then I heard they were having it here – indoors," he said.

"Oh, I see."

Draco had more or less won his argument – of finding better food for less money. Street food had become wildly popular as of late. Still, it was hardly the kind of setting to conduct a business lunch. But then what the hell did Draco care about business?

He studied her leather portfolio and grimaced.

"So, it's back to business huh? Back to work?"

She smiled after politely tucking away a wayward bite of whatever it was she was eating.

"That's what we're here for isn't it?"

"_Is_ it?"

As usual, Draco was perfectly dressed today in a three-quarter length top-coat that looked wooly and warm. He looked like he could adorn the cover of 'Fashions of the Wizarding Wealthy', if there was such a thing. She couldn't help but notice the looks from other women he drew. They drifted over to a corner table – one of the few available. The mood inside was a bit festive, and it would be difficult to keep the conversation close to the business at hand. She sat down and crossed a leg over her knee. Draco took keen notice of the length of exposed calf in navy blue hosiery.

"You look nice today Granger," he said through a wry smile.

The comment would roll off with no effect. "How's Timmy and things at the hospital?" she asked.

"He's doing fine. He had a really great Christmas I think. What about you? You ever get all those books wrapped?"

"Yeah, it went very well. What about some of the other kids you mentioned?"

He didn't answer but dug into his breaded cone to fish out a chunk of marinated meat. He toyed with it on the end of his wooden fork.

"We never talk about you – why's that?" he said and plopped the morsel into his mouth.

"We're not here to talk about me," she said and began to fish for another bite of her own.

"It's intercourse Granger – you know – two way conversation. It just works better that way. Surely you can understand that," he said.

"Sure – but we're not here for a social occasion Draco. You seem to mix business and social whenever it pleases you."

"It doesn't matter," he rebuked.

"It does with me – and I'm conducting the interview," she said.

Draco leaned back in the chair and sulked. Now she'd done it – she'd used the rules. She'd have to threaten him with Azkaban to get him to discuss work now.

"I don't want to come across as a bitch, but I think I'm being reasonable," she added.

"That's what you call being reasonable – you're joking _right_?"

"Look," she said. "It says here in your performance reports that your work is adequate. That's all it ever says. I'm just trying to figure out why. I'm beginning to think you paid someone at the hospital to write this, and frankly I don't give a damn. As long as the Ministry thinks you're staying busy and the kids you work with are happy – well that's fine with me," she said and then reached for her bag.

He leaned over and grabbed her sleeve. "Look Hermione, I just thought..."

"If you want to lighten up on the work talk and just chitchat, then show me something for real," she said.

"And just how the hell can I do that? Can you give me a hint?" he asked with a baffled look.

"Sure, I want to see signs of real work in your report – and not something you paid someone to write," she said.

"And then what – you'll talk to me?"

"I'll try."

"Is this a bet – will you wager on on it?"

She looked for a sign in the heavens. "Okay," she said. "If you come to our next meeting with an outstanding performance report, then you pick the next luncheon spot, and we can drop the work talk. But for now – It's back to the Ministry for lunch," she said and rose from the small table. She slung the portfolio strap over her shoulder and turned to leave.

"And don't be late," she said before working her way toward the exit.

‡‡‡‡‡

Draco thew down the little cornucopia surprise on the table and watched the good looking and leggy witch disappear into the crowds. Damn, the thought of going back to the Ministry for lunch was revolting. He would have to speak with Hippocrates about his work report and try and make things look a little better. Hell, he might have to start doing a little more work about the place. He didn't care if he had to lie and bribe the hospital office worker who wrote the reports, but he meant to have a superlative work record before their next meeting. He was beginning to take a rather naughty interest in Granger's shapely pair of legs – and that little patch of heaven between them.

‡‡‡‡‡

"You never dress like that when we go out to lunch," Ron said as she entered to short hall to her office.

"Oh really – well find us a place for dinner this weekend and I'll do much better," she said and he laughed. Ron had been a little peeved with her after their last outing. But that was yesterday and today he seemed to be taking more than just a little interest in her arrangement with Draco. He was very curious and perhaps a little suspicious but didn't seem to be angry about it. Christmas had turned out well and Harry had come by the Burrow for a pleasant surprise. Harry and Ginny were a little cool and diffident with each other and she and Ron just sat back and watched them with the greatest amusement. It was obvious Ginny was still crazy about him, and he wouldn't have been so angry with her if he didn't care. Nature would take it's course and they'd both be back together again before too long – she hoped. She took off the coat and slid back into the robes. There on her desk was a message from Kingsley. She was to stop by his office at her first convenience.

Kingsley's already had the pipe going and a little smoke trail was rising up and around the green bankers lamp.

"Good afternoon Hermione."

"Good afternoon Minister – just saw your note sir," she said. She quickly took a seat and felt engulfed in the huge leather chair.

"Yes, well – it's been a few weeks since we chatted. I thought you might bring me up to speed with this business with Malfoy," he said peering over the green lamp. "There's not much in these reports."

"No sir, there's not."

"Does he mention his work – I mean, there's nothing here," he said and threw the report on the table.

"He speaks very little of it sir, but I know he's been working with some children that are confined to the hospital," she said.

"Children? The report doesn't say anything about them," he said and raised an eye.

"No, but Winky and I ran into Draco in Diagon Alley before Christmas. He was taking one of the boy's for a night out," she said.

"Really... imagine that. You think that's all he does? Social errands and such?"

"More than likely. I'm not sure if he's doing any real work at all," she said, shaking her head.

Kingsley removed the reading glasses and thought on this a moment.

"Do you think we should dig into this a little further? I'm sure we could find someone at the hospital who could help us out," he said, spinning the glasses by the temple.

"Give me a week or two sir," she said. "I've been working an angle and I'd like to give it a try before we resort to something covert."

"Yeah, that's fine. You know, I'm really not too worried about it. If we keep Draco off the streets and out of trouble, then I figure we're doing some good with this guy," he said.

"I know exactly what you mean sir," she replied with a smile.

"Yes, well just as long as this doesn't turn out to be an embarrassment to the Ministry. Okay, keep me in touch Hermione," he said and slapped the desktop to conclude the meeting.

‡‡‡‡‡

Hermione fumbled through her bag for her door key. Winky was still cleaning up when she pushed open the door. It looked like she was putting a few finishing touches on the kitchen. Hermione quickly reached down and pulled off the heels.

"Good evening Miss Hermione," greeted the elf.

"Good evening Winky. Do you think we have anything in the icebox for tea?" she asked.

"I think we do Miss!"

"Okay, you get started and I'll get undressed."

Immediately peeling out of the work clothes was the first thing Hermione did after coming home from a long day at the Ministry. It was like getting rid of a part of her day she'd like to forget. She was almost out of the frock before closing the bedroom door. She quickly stripped out of the hosiery, pants, and the biting bra. The smack of cool air against naked skin felt good as she scrounged around for a decent pair of jeans. Finding a pair that looked comfortable, she wriggled in to them and slid into a old pair of flats. She pinned her hair back and then pulled a warm cardigan over her head.

Winky had cheese sandwiches toasting in the oven as Hermione returned.

"Something already smells good," she said.

"Yes Miss. Winky is fixing soup and sandwiches – they should be ready soon," she said in a feminine version of house-elf croaking.

Within a few minutes Hermione had the table set and Winky was bringing the soup and cheese sandwiches to the table. They ate in silence for a few moments.

"So Winky – how'd your day go? Alright?"

"Yes Miss. Everything, it went fine," she said while nibbling on the toasted cheese sandwich.

"You never mentioned Christmas. Did your friends enjoy their gifts?"

"Oh yes Miss, very much. They'd never had anything bought from the store before."

Hermione bit her lip and proceeded tenderly. "You and Gilbert. It seemed like you two are pretty good friends?"

Winky's huge eyes got even larger. "I think a lot of him – yes I surely do," she said and then looked away.

Hermione felt like she was close to prying and didn't want to damage their relationship by asking too many questions.

"Well he certainly looks like a handsome house-elf," she finally added and Winky grinned from ear to ear. Having the information she needed, Hermione felt a little more at ease to proceed. She didn't know all the rules of house-elf courtship and thought maybe Winky could provide some insight.

"Winky forgive me if I'm prying, I don't mean to, but is there any chance you two could become a couple?"

Winky rolled her huge eyes and wiggled her ears before working up an answer.

"Oh... no Miss," she said. "That's not possible right now, it's not."

"Oh I see," Hermione said and decided to let the subject lie. Maybe some other time she would bring up the question again.

‡‡‡‡‡

"Oh Bloody hell..." Hermione muttered to herself.

The report was back from St. Mungo's and it was all there. A complete description of his work report with excellence marks in all categories. It looked like she'd have to play along with Draco's game. He was due to be in today, so she stuffed the report away and mentally prepared for their meeting.

Hermione's heels clacked on concrete as she made her way into the canteen. She swished in today with Lavender colored custom fit robes. Draco was sitting at a table staring into space. She sat the leather portfolio on the table and pulled up a chair.

"You're early today," she said and faced the blonde wizard.

"Well, I'm normally late."

"Hope you can eat the food on Thursdays – it's just so-so I'm afraid," she said.

"I'm sure it's better than Wednesdays. Are you ready?"

"Sure."

At this hour the canteen was almost empty, and the two moved quickly and quietly through the lunch line. They returned to the table and ate in silence for a few minutes. Hermione didn't bring up the issue of his outstanding work report, and he never mentioned the little wager between them.

"These are good mashed potatoes," he finally said.

"You're kidding?" she said, grinning at the first remark that finally popped out.

"No... but I had to get used to eating them in so many different ways when I was a kid."

"Your mother, she liked to experiment?"

"No... my Mum never cooked. It was the house-elves. Dad would fire the cooks every two or three years," he said as he looked her in the eye.

"My Mum always did the cooking. Of course we never had a house-elf," she said and managed a chuckle.

"But you have one now."

Hermione had been chasing a little green pea on her plate. It had been resisting capture and Draco was beginning to take notice.

"I employ Winky two days a week. It's like a job for her, and I'm like an employer," she said looking up from the plate.

"Oh yeah? I've heard that about you," he said and nodded.

"So what do you think? Different huh?"

"Yes it is. I mean, do you have a house? Why just two days a week? Why not let her stay at your place like most house-elves?" he asked and studied her for the answer.

Hermione went back to stabbing at the green pea. She finally gave up on the little evasive one and raised her head.

"I have a flat," she said and shrugged. "It's not really big enough for a full time house-elf."

"So where does she spend the rest of her time?"

"At the castle – she spends the rest of her time at Hogwarts," she said and went after the pea again.

Draco dropped his head and looked at the plate for a few moments.

He looked up sharply,"Are you going to marry Weasley?"

"What? I just said I would talk to you. I didn't say I'd answer all your questions," she said grinning.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to pry. But you two have been together for some time – it's a simple question," he said and went back to picking at something on his plate.

"Okay. Fair enough. We've talked about it," she said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." And she nodded.

"_And..._ are you going to marry?" he asked as if impersonating a man who had asked a childishly simple question.

"We've decided to wait a while. Until our finances are in a little better shape," she grudgingly replied. "And what about you and Astoria – what's the story with you two?" she asked defensively.

"There's no story really," he said.

"Well, you're with her. Are you going to marry her?" she demanded.

Draco went through a little routine of his own, fiddling around with something on his plate and looking off into space. He took a quick drink of water before looking up.

"If our families have anything to say about it – yeah, we'll get married," he said and dropped his head again.

"Well, it's what _you_ have to say about it, that's..."

"No, no it's not that simple," he reiterated.

"Of course it is," she said. "That's the one impression I've had about you from the beginning – that you're a man who knows what he wants."

"And you're right, but sometimes we all have to make concessions Granger."

"With something as important as marriage – sorry I don't buy it," she said and shook her head before returning to her plate.

"It's hard to believe, I know, but we had two powerful families behind us and our eventual marriage has been arranged," he said.

"I'm sorry – that's impossible for me to imagine," she said and placed the silverware on her plate and reached for the portfolio.

"I guess it is a little absurd in these days and times. But, we're a magical family and we live in a different world. Even you could understand that Granger."

She thought he was going to say 'even a mudblood like you' for just a moment. She opened the notebook and took out the performance report.

"This is very good," she said and grinned before laying it on the table. "I hope you didn't pay too much for it. Because we both know you didn't do this work, did you?"

"I can't fool you – can I Granger?"

"No, I don't think so. As long as you don't make the Ministry look foolish with your games, then I guess there's no harm done," she said and started to rise.

"Leaving so soon?" he said.

"Sorry, but I need more," she said and turned to leave.

"Wait..." he said, and he gazed up at her like a lost puppy. "Look, I'd like to go out with you," he said. She quickly looked around in a panicky manner to see if anyone could have overheard this. With Draco having her full attention now, she sat back down on the side of her chair. "To dinner or something like that – I'd like to very much," he said as he lowered his voice.

"You know I can't do that," she said.

"Yeah, why not," he asked through a grimaced expression.

"Well a couple of things – no make that three things. The first is that I can't go out with you and be your case officer. And the second is that I've been seeing Ron," she said and shrugged.

"Okay," he said with a puzzled grin, "what's the third?"

"You just admitted you didn't do this work. I couldn't go out with you like that. You can't buy me Draco," she said rising from the chair.

"You're a hard one Granger. Do you ever lighten up?" he asked, drawing a contented smile from Hermione.

"It's your pick for our next luncheon," she said. "Send me an owl when you know."

He nodded with a sour look on his face. "Hermione..."

"Oh and bring me back a real report. Not this tripe you paid for," she said. The freshly pressed robes made a little snap as she quickly turned to leave.

:

:

* * *

**A/N:** The chapters have been coming out pretty fast. I hope this holds up. Much thanks for the follows, favs, and reviews.


	9. A Touch of This – A Kiss of That

**AN: ** While the high spots remain, the story had slipped away from the outline material a long time ago. The details for this chapter were boring and now out of sync with the rest of the story. Almost skipped this chapter, but the characters began to speak up and assert themselves. Maybe my readers will do the same. :)

Thanks for reading.

* * *

**9. A Touch of This – A Kiss of That**

Scenery was ripping past the train windows almost as fast as the memories of her day. The curtain on one scene would fall as the train entered a tunnel only to open to a new one at the end of the blackness. Closing her eyes, memories of her day were moving through her head in much the same way as Hermione took the train home from work.

Thinking back to the scene in the lunchroom, she had acted with professionalism and correctness. She had made it crystal clear to Draco that she was his case officer. She could not go out on a date with him and be his case officer. And Ron – how could she fail to mention him. She couldn't betray the wizard that had asked for her hand, only a few weeks ago.

And the performance report Draco had paid for. Was there anything genuine about this man? Perhaps this was some kind of Slytherin joke – to get out of your work assignments and into the knickers of your case officer. Yes that would be an amusing story to tell your friends at the local pub. Still, there had been something in his eyes that looked real – that lost puppy dog look. Oh well – it was done, she thought as she struggled with the key to open the door to her flat. She had set him straight and that was that. And being resolute with her actions, Hermione fell into her comfortable padded chair, put her head in her hands and cried.

‡‡‡‡‡

"It's done then – you'll take the case over as soon as I clear it with Kingsley," Hermione stated flatly.

"Yeah, sure – if that's what you want to do," Cynthia replied with a rather curious look. "Is this guy some kind of wacko or something?"

"Oh no, it's nothing like that," she said.

"Good, but I had to wonder, you know. I mean going out to lunch with this guy might not be all bad," Cynthia said with a wry grin.

"No, it's not all bad. That's why I'm quitting," she said and Cynthia looked totally confused.

‡‡‡‡‡

Kingsley had thrown a fit:

"_But Hermione, you seemed to be making real progress with this case – and now you just want to quit?" he asked._

"_Yes sir, I'm afraid so," she said and bowed her head._

"_Well, what the hell for? Is he unruly or something – we can fix that," he said reassuringly._

"_Oh no sir. It's nothing like that," she said._

"_Oh," he said as he looked at Hermione suspiciously. "Well, I don't have to tell you how important this is to the Ministry. We can't afford another generation of pissed-off Malfoys."_

"_Yes sir."_

"_I'll consider your request Hermione and we'll talk about this again – okay?" he said firmly._

"_Yes sir. Thank you sir."_

His note was on her desk the next morning when she arrived at work.

* * *

Granger,

Let's make it 'The Palm' on Pont St. at 11:30 on Monday – I think you'll like it.

Tardiness won't be tolerated, so don't be late.

Draco

* * *

How on earth does he find the time to come up with all these Muggle restaurants, she wondered as she hid the note in the top drawer of her desk.

On the eve of the luncheon she had trouble getting to sleep and then tossed and turned all night. The alarm clock beside her bed had gone off twice and she finally knocked it in the floor on the last attempt to hit the snooze button. She threw on a fluffy dressing gown and headed toward the shower. The hair was not cooperating this morning. On the third magical enhancement, it finally fell into the pageboy she was accustomed to and was hanging like fine draperies. Winky was already there and she could hear a commotion of some sort going on in the bedroom.

When she came out of the bathroom, she could see Winky had already made up the bed and laid out clothes for her to wear on top of the duvet. Hermione took a quick look at the outfit and decided Winky must be hitting the butterbeer at the castle again. The skirt was a risque affair with a split to mid thigh. The satiny blouse was far too shear for the season. And to top it off, Winky had thrown out skimpy lace pants and a naughty little shelf that Hermione had bought last fall to wear behind a thin sweater. Ron couldn't take his eyes off her chest and she'd hadn't worn it since. Oh well, no harm done, she thought as she went to get something more appropriate from her wardrobe.

"WINKY – what the hell is going on here?" she shouted.

To her shock and amazement the wardrobe and all the drawers were empty. She could hear the slap of elf feet headed to the bedroom.

"Yes Miss – you called Winky?"

"Winky, where are my clothes – my underwear? This will never do," she said pointing to the things on the bed.

"Oh... I'm so sorry Miss, but Winky has all your clothes in the wash," she said with a lugubrious expression.

"You what?" Hermione said, completely at a loss.

"The first Monday of the month is a big wash day Miss and you is well overdue, you are," she said with arms outstretched.

"Oh Winky. Oh no..."

Wrapped up in a long coat, Hermione made her way to the Ministry. She had managed to dry some hosiery but everything else had been sopping wet. Coming into the Ministry building was the last place she wanted to feel slick satiny material from her blouse freely rubbing against her near nakedness. She could feel a draft of cool air through the split skirt. She would quickly pull her robes over the outfit and hopefully the day would end quickly.

She had almost a sick feeling in her stomach when eleven thirty finally rolled around. Peeping out of her office door to make sure no one was coming, she quickly pulled off the robes and grabbed her long coat. Apparating to a place very the near the restaurant, she walked the rest of the way with a snappy cadence on high heels. She flew into the foyer of the restaurant to see Draco pacing the narrow hallway.

"You're late," he said with impatience tugging at his voice.

"Sorry, some last minute things you know."

The maitre d' led them to the table and Draco reached for her chair.

"Can I take your coat?" he asked.

"Uh... well, uh," she stammered almost petrified, but Draco was already pulling the coat off her shoulders before she could respond. She felt naked in this outfit. In the cool air, her nipples were struggling against the sheer blouse. As she sat down it felt like the split skirt opened to the crotch.

"Wow," he said. "Look at you."

"Don't get the wrong idea here – my house-elf pulled these things out this morning and threw the rest of my clothes in the wash," she said, sotto voce.

"Hey, I'm liking your house-elf," he said, staring at her tits.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I think I'll send her over to you."

They talked of silly things like the extremes of street fashions and the price of ice cream. It was about half way through the meal before Draco noticed her leather portfolio was missing.

"No work today?" he asked. "Where's your notebook? I thought you slept with that thing."

"Well, I didn't think I would need it today," she said as she laid down the fork on her plate.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, but I saw your record this week. It looked pretty good – did you actually do some work?" she said with a little smile.

"You're the case officer – what do you think?," he said and went back to the meal. When he noticed Hermione didn't go back to her's, he stopped and looked up.

"You're lunch, is it okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine," she said and paused. "There's been a change in your case."

"Yeah, what kind of change?" he said and looked her coldly in the eyes.

"Cynthia Sickles will be taking over from now on," she replied and dipped her head.

Draco gently laid the silverware on his plate and sat up straight. He had a stunned look about him as he studied Hermione for any explanation.

"I don't think you'll have a problem with her – she's very nice really – a little too talkative sometimes, but actually quite..."

"Goddamn-it Granger – what's this all about?"

She shrugged and looked around at the patrons and at the obvious confinements of their situation. There was a long pause then Draco stood up and threw his serviette on the plate.

"Waiter," he barked, and when he had the man's eye he motioned to the table. "We'll get out of here and talk," he then announced to Hermione. "I need the bill please," he said, redirecting back to the waiter. The young man saw the agitation in Draco's expression and double-timed it back to the table with a small leather bill case with two mints on top. Draco reached in in pocket and handed the young man a large note and then turned toward Hermione. "I'll get your coat."

"I can pay for my own lunch Draco," she said.

"The hell you will – you're not my case officer anymore, so I'm paying for this," he barked.

He returned with her coat and held it as she slid in both arms. Gently, he tapped the shoulders of her coat as a finishing touch and she followed him out to the foyer where they both paused for a few moments before speaking.

"So," he said. "Did Kingsley make this change?"

"No," she said. "I asked for it." He looked up and then around the foyer for a few moments.

"It's because I asked you out – is that it?"

"In part – yes," she said.

Draco shook his head and then looked off and away. He clearly didn't know how to proceed, so he stalled for time.

"I can't take it back," he finally said.

"Take what back," she asked.

"That I asked you out – I'm sorry you're upset about it, but..."

"Draco..."

"But I'm not sorry I asked you out."

"Draco..."

"And two of the problems you mentioned are no longer problems. I've given you an honest work report and you're no longer involved with my case. I can't do anything about Weasley, but I've taken care of my end – and this is what I get," he said, growing agitated again.

It was obvious this wide range of emotions and reactions were not choreographed, rehearsed, or invented. Maybe, just maybe she had finally gotten something real from the blonde wizard.

"Draco..."

"What?" he said.

"You had me at 'I'm sorry'," she said softly. "I can't be your case officer if I go out with you."

You could see the frustration melt away to be replaced with sheepish embarrassment. He had obviously over-reacted, and realizing this, he relaxed a little and nodded. Once again a patch of blonde hair fell down. She immediately stepped up to him and brushed it back.

She chuckled and smiled. "So ease up big guy," she said.

He looked quizzically at the brunette, standing inches away. "You said 'in part'."

"Huh?" she asked, bewildered.

"Earlier – you said 'in part', so what was the other part?"

"Oh... yeah, that... that was me," she said and glanced off so as not to go any further.

He stood motionless and grey eyes gazed into hers for a moment or two. He leaned into her very slowly. When he canted his head slightly she knew she was about to be kissed. She stood receptively and could feel her own lips begin to part when...

There was a bright flash of light – protracted like a reflection from a car mirror but longer. They were both stunned and Hermione looked around to find the source. Standing there, in a subdued form of herself, in a form acceptable for a Muggle restaurant was Rita Skeeter. The flash had been from her magical camera.

‡‡‡‡‡

Hermione entered the Ministry and held the coat tightly together as if her life depended on it. She managed to get back to her office and back into the robes before anyone noticed.

_What the hell have I done? I've agreed to a dinner date with Draco Malfoy and Rita Skeeter has us kissing on film._

She had threatened to take Rita's camera but Rita reassured them she had no intention to publish the pictures.

"_Now you kiddies – go along and have fun now. This is just for a scrapbook I'm putting together," she said._

Hermione warned her sternly and Rita left just as quickly as she appeared. Still, it was kind of odd, her being there and all, and it seemed to be just one more bizarre thing in a string of crazy occurrences throughout the day.

Draco had stammered and struggled for the words, but finally admitted he had enjoyed their lunches together. He suggested they pick a week night for dinner and they could resume the conversation at that time.

She scribbled her address down on the back of a Ministry business card and gave it to him. The date was on for Thursday night. He would come by her place at seven.


	10. Wizards on a Train

**A/N: **This chapter is a little longer than most but the last one was a little shorter. So this way you get your money's worth.

Remember to review and thanks for reading.

* * *

**10. _Wizards on a Train_**

As morning light began washing into her bedroom window Hermione was under the influence of a dream. And in the dream she had surrendered to Draco Malfoy and had been taken to some betrothal chamber in the bowels of Malfoy Manor. In a satin jet black robe the blond wizard approached her slowly with a languid indifference.

Tossing and turning under the influence of the dream her hair was disheveled and about her face and pillow. She had kicked the duvet nearly onto the floor and she was half on and half off the bed.

In the dream she was passionately kissing the blond wizard and could feel his tongue slipping past her parted lips. Tongues darted and played and then slithered away. She shuddered as the wizard squeezed her buttocks together and she felt callused hands rubbing along the smooth skin of her sides. Erratic and irregular breaths were now coming to her in gasps. Hands continued upward along her sides to gently cup her breasts. He began to thumb her now firm and tender nipples. He tugged the satin lapels and the robe began to open. Incapable of resisting him, she pulled the wizard toward her receptively. Her tummy began to heave and quake. And in the dream she was approaching the very edge of ecstasy. And on the very precipice of bliss she began to teeter and slide over the edge. But being unaware of gravity in the dream, she was sliding not toward bliss but off the edge of the bed. Landing with a heavy KA-WUMP, she hit the floor; her nightshirt was thrown over her head and she was sitting with a bare bum on cold hardwood.

"Damn-it!" she yelled and she pulled her nightshirt down from around her head and straightened her hair. Struggling to regain her composure she sat there for a few moments in stunned silence. The soft silence was also rudely interrupted as the alarm clock on the table began to ring and rattle obnoxiously. Struggling to rise and rubbing her sore bum, she turned off the alarm and headed toward the shower.

The wardrobe was almost back to normal with her regular things. Winky could be heard in the kitchen and had as promised come in an extra day to finish with the clothes. She took a critical look in the mirror. The pageboy was just okay but the dress, heels, and hosiery were well coordinated.

Winky was busy in the kitchen with coffee and crumpets ready and on the table. She was trying extra hard to make it up to Hermione for the inconvenience she had caused.

"Good morning Miss!" she said. "I hope you has time for a bit of breakfast."

"Sure Winky – there's plenty of time," Hermione said cheerfully and more than ready to overlook the blunder.

Hermione took a sip of coffee and instinctively looked around for the morning edition of the _Daily Prophet. _With it nowhere to be found, she looked over at Winky who was bringing the crumpets to the table.

"Sit a spell Winky and have a crumpet," Hermione said and returned to her coffee. "Say Winky, do we have a paper this morning?"

"Oh no Miss – we don't. With the washing and all I plum forgot to pick one up," she said while nervously nibbling on a crumpet.

Hermione noticed Winky's hands were red and blistered as she gnawed on the bite of crumpet.

"Don't worry about it Winky, I'll get one at work. Say – what happened to your hands?"

Winky looked up suspiciously. "Oh, it's nothing Miss – some hot grease spilled at the castle. That's all."

"Oh," she said and turned up the last bit of coffee in her cup. "Well have a nice day Winky."

‡‡‡‡‡

The queue to the magical toilet passageway was longer this morning since the toilets were flushing slower than normal. An annoying woman in front of her was wearing an obnoxious hat full of peacock feathers. When she turned her head, she would swipe the face of all those around her. Finally, she made it through the toilet passageway, and collected herself to clatter in heels down the long marble floored atrium. Since she had agreed to a dinner date with Malfoy, thoughts of Ron had been burning in the back of her mind ever since. She had no idea how she was going to handle this. It wouldn't be so bad if Ron hadn't brought the subject of marriage up over dinner a few months ago. She had convinced him they weren't ready. But in truth – what she couldn't tell him was that she just wasn't feeling it.

She was overplaying her fears, she reasoned. Who knows, this thing with Malfoy might end abruptly after one dinner date. But something was screaming in the back of her mind that Draco wouldn't let her off the hook so easy.

The first unusual occurrence of the morning, if you didn't count the odd look from the lift operator, was Harry's expression on this morning. When they passed in the halls, he rolled his eyes, grinned from ear to ear, and shook his head as he passed.

The second brought real butterflies to her stomach. She almost had 'good morning' out of her mouth as Ron approached her in the hall. Without an acknowledgment of any kind, he simply walked past her without saying a thing. Frozen, she stopped and turned around to watch the ginger haired wizard simply walk away with nary a word.

It was going to be bad morning – the writing was on the wall – and she wasn't too surprised to see the note on her desk.

Hermione,

Please come to my office immediately.

Kingsley.

Well that was warm, she thought. She quickly threw on her robes and trotted down to Kingsley's office. She passed under the gilded archway and was greeted by Kingsley's glowing new receptionist. The receptionist showed her in and unlocked the large padded door to Kingsley's office. He was partially obscured by the green bankers lamp.

"Good morning sir," she announced and tentatively took a seat on the edge of the large padded chair and remained rigidly upright.

"Good morning Hermione," he said.

"What's all this about sir?"

"Well, I was hoping you could tell me," he said and completely puzzled, Hermione shrugged without a clue.

Kingsley wheeled his chair around to the edge of the large mahogany desk as to make the discussion a little more personable.

"Then you haven't you seen the morning paper?" he asked.

"No sir, I haven't."

He looked back as if her answer troubled him. He reached into a top drawer and slid a copy of the paper over the desk to Hermione.

"Well, you better take a look. It seems everyone else has."

She took the paper with a puzzled expression and unfolded it to look at the front page.

"Oh, Merlin's Beard!" she exclaimed and dropped the paper in her lap as if it were poison.

Kingsley watched her carefully and then turned to fill the pipe with tobacco. He tamped the pipe without looking at Hermione or the pipe.

"It's not what it looks like sir," she said as she finally looked up.

Kingsley reflected on this a moment and nodded slowly.

"This is Rita's job Hermione - to make things look different than they really are," he said with a sad smile.

Hermione couldn't get the image out of her mind. The magical camera had caught them pulling away from what looked like a kiss to face the camera with wide eyed and stupefied expressions. The thin and skimpy top along with the split skirt made her look like a tart. She read the first paragraph of Rita's article.

* * *

It appears that Ministry of Magic employee Hermione Granger still has a taste for famous wizards. Her latest prey it seems is none other than Draco Malfoy. The two were seen together in this compromising situation at The Palm restaurant on Monday. There has been no comment from Ms. Granger, but the Malfoy family has appointed a solicitor to represent them in this situation. It appears that Ms. Granger, who was the case officer on Draco Malfoy's public service assignment, has used their case meetings to garner something a little more personal from this wealthy and handsome wizard. No statement has been issued from the Ministry at this time.

* * *

"So," Kingsley said and looked as though he was feeling physical pain. "How much if any of this is true? We'll have to make a rebuttal statement very soon."

"None of it sir," she said and put her head in her hands. "None at all."

Kingsley nodded and looked at her with a grimaced expression.

"_Hermione_ it looks like you were kissing him," he said and reached for the pipe. Kingsley watched her carefully and then turned to fill the pipe with tobacco. He tamped the pipe while keeping his focus on Hermione.

At this point Hermione leaned back in the chair. Her eyes were swelling with tears.

"He leaned toward me," she said. "_Yes_ to kiss me I suppose – I had just explained I couldn't be his case officer," she added and shook her head.

Kingsley continued to tamp the pipe, but never took his eyes never off Hermione.

"Yes, go on," he said, knowing full well there was more to the story.

Wiping her eyes, she looked up and gathered herself.

"He had asked me to dinner several times," she said, pausing to wipe her eyes and nose. "I told him I couldn't go with him while I was his case officer," she added.

"And that's why you asked off the case?" Kingsley interrupted.

Hermione pursed her lips and nodded.

"I told him that Cynthia could take over the case..." she said and paused to shake her head. "And that I would go to dinner with him," she added as if it pained her to say the words. "He acted sincere."

Kingsley shook his head and looked at something interesting on the floor.

"If you had waited until you were technically off the case – then we might not have a problem," he said. "As it stands now, Malfoy could use this incident to appeal his case."

Hermione bowed her head.

"I've really messed things up," she said.

"All the way around, it seems," he replied and finally made an effort to light the pipe.

"I'm sorry sir – I really am."

"I believe that," he said. "But the governors are not all happy about this incident. It just looks bad."

"Yes sir – is my job in danger?"

"I think I can say it is not. And I believe you can keep it if you follow directions," he said and finally made an honest effort to light the pipe.

"What do I do sir?" she asked after wiping her nose.

"_Nothing_... don't make any statements to the press. And don't speak with Draco until we know what's going on here," he said.

"No sir – I won't," she said with bowed head.

"Cheer up Hermione. We'll write this up as a learning experience," he said and managed a brief smile.

"I'll try."

‡‡‡‡‡

Hermione trudged back to her office with the stains of dried tears and mascara running down her cheeks. She had never felt as much of a failure as she did now. To think that her job had been threatened was almost been too much to bear. She closed her office door, which was something she rarely if ever did, and rubbed her face clean. There was a hastily written note on her desk.

It was from Draco.

* * *

Hermione,

No matter what Rita's article says or our family's attorneys

have to add to this mess, there's one thing you must know and that is:

I had nothing to do with this.

Hopefully when this things blows over we can talk.

Draco.

* * *

Totally confused, she started to dispose of the note and then thought better of it. It might come in handy later, she thought and filed the note away in the top drawer of her desk.

She stayed behind her office door for the entire day. She read over boring case reports until five o'clock finally rolled around. She clicked open the latch of her office door and looked into the halls. Everything was as quiet as a tomb. She walked on the balls of her feet to avoid the report of clattering heels on the marble floors. Just out of the hallway to her office and turning the corner to the lifts...

"You're not sneaking out are you?" came the familiar voice behind her.

She turned to see Harry with a warm smile. She stopped to greet the wizard.

"Yes I was – hello Harry," she said, relieved.

"Looks like you could use a friend?" he said.

"Do I have any left?" she asked.

He laughed as he stood beside her and reached around and gave her a brotherly hug by the shoulder. She could feel the extra wand he carried under the right lapel. The small scar he picked up in Romania was just visible under the five o'clock shadow. He was a much harder version of the man she'd known in school, and probably the only friend she had right now.

"And maybe that friend could buy you a beer," he said.

"Only if I could get something to eat along with it," she added.

"You're on," he said with a warm smile and she felt better already.

They found a corner table at the Leaky Cauldron that was away from the evening regulars. Several old witches recognized Hermione and would look over her way while muttering gossips under their breaths. Harry ordered them a light meal and a couple of beers. Hermione ate a bit of her sandwich and cradled her beer in silence. Harry never pushed her to speak and they enjoyed each others company in silence.

"Have you talked to Ron?" she finally asked.

"A bit," he said.

"Is he upset?"

"He's doing his best acting to pretend he's not," he said.

"I've made a big mess of things," she said and went on to re-tell the whole story. She explained why she was wearing the clothes that made her look like a tart. She explained the kiss, or what would have been a kiss before Rita's camera interrupted the pair. She explained why Cynthia was to take over the case.

"Do you think he planned all this to weasel out of his work?" Harry asked.

"The old the Draco we knew would do that – not so sure about this one."

"He's changed that much?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," she said. "It was very odd, Rita showing up the time she did. But he seemed sincere just moments before."

Harry raised a brow suspiciously and took a long pull on the beer.

"_And_ I may never know," she added. "Kingsley instructed me to speak to no one about this – and especially Draco."

"But you are curious?"

"Yes, I suppose," she muttered.

"Ron mentioned that you two talked marriage – not too long ago," Harry said.

"Ron talked marriage – I listened. Marriage – that's a big step – don't you think?" she said.

"I suppose. Never really considered it of course. How the hell could I," he said lugubriously.

"Oh, don't give me that. You know Ginny would have you back," she said and pulled a face.

He shrugged his shoulders and played dumb.

"So what's she doing now? I haven't heard from her in an age," she said.

"Quidditch I guess. It's all she talks about. She's planning to tryout for the Holyhead Harpies."

"Well, that's interesting. Have you seen her lately?" she asked with perked interest.

"It's been a while. We tried going out a couple of times – just didn't work," he said and reached for the beer.

"Why not?" she asked, not ready to let him off the hook so easy.

"Aw I don't know. It just felt funny – forced maybe. It's like we were supposed to be together, but neither one of us knew why," he said. "Hey... I thought we were here to talk about you."

"There's nothing much else to say. I'll just have to wait and see how this plays out. You're the only friend I've got Harry," she said with a sigh.

Harry placed his hand over hers. "No," he said and laughed. "But sometimes it just feels that way. Things will work out – I'm sure," he said.

Hermione smiled at the wizard who had comforted her like this so many times before.

"Thanks Harry. I hope you're right."

‡‡‡‡‡

The next morning there was a note from Draco on her desk. It was very much like the first one as he pleaded to support his innocence. At the end of the note he asked her to please write back and let him know things were okay. Once again, she placed the note in her desk drawer, along with the first. If this mess did go to court, then the note would plaintiffly support her argument.

The next couple of days were almost like normal. She passed Ron in the hall and did her best to prod him into speaking.

"Good morning Ron – you alright?"

"Hey..." he said with a curt nod and continued to pass without further dialogue.

That evening after work Hermione thought a new book would be just what she needed to help get her mind right. She had seen a copy of a new wizarding mystery in Flourish and Blotts during Christmas that ought to do the trick. She was headed that way when she ran into blind Alice sitting on a small stool just off the wind. Blind Alice or old blind Alice as some called her, would find a place somewhere along the alley and peddle her stalks of Potpourri. She would have a basket full on most days and the customers would introduce themselves or just say hello if they had ever done business with her in the past. Alice would always remember your name and never forgot the subject of conversation on your last visit. She often wore a dusty and crumbled flop hat with a wide brim. Her old woolen frock was tattered and patched but always clean. On cold days she wore her coat that was patched with colors that didn't match. She turned to look with non-functioning eyes as Hermione stopped by her basket.

"Good evening Alice," Hermione greeted the old witch.

"Why, Miss Hermione. I thought that was you," the old witch said.

Hermione picked a stalk and put to it to her nose. She dropped two Sickles into Alice's can. The old witch could immediately tell it was twice what she charged for a stalk of Potpourri.

"You are too kind Miss," the old witch said and nodded.

"Well, the Potpourri smells very good tonight. Good evening Alice," she said and placed the stalk in her bag as she turned toward the bookstore.

"God bless you Miss," said old Alice.

Hermione had taken maybe a half a dozen steps when she heard old Alice call her name.

"Miss Hermione–"

Hermione stopped and pulled a face as she turned to face old Alice.

"Excuse me," she asked.

"May I have a word dear?" she said. Hermione trudged the steps back to old Alice.

"What ails you child – I know it's something?"

"Oh Alice, it's nothing really," Hermione protested.

"Ah, but there's so much more bounce to your step when things are right wid you. Aye, a young thing like yourself should not be dragging like you is," she insisted.

"Well, things at work have been a little rough lately – that's all," Hermione said with an uplifting tone.

"Oh... I feel more – sometimes a sadness in our heart affects our feet the most," she said. Alice reached into the endless folds of tattered clothing. She pulled out a coin-like object with a leather lanyard and stretched her arm to Hermione.

"Here, take this child. It'll help cure what ails ya – it always has for me," said the old witch as she opened a claw-like hand.

"Oh Alice I couldn't – I mean it's yours," said Hermione.

"Oh nonsense. You can give it back to old Alice when things get better," she said and stretched her arm and hand out a little further.

Hermione took the object and Alice smiled a toothless smile. It looked like a round shell of some type and larger than a Galleon. There was a hole in the top for the lanyard and rune-like marking carved around the edge.

"Thank you Alice – I'm sure it will help," Hermione said and went straight away to the bookstore.

‡‡‡‡‡

Like the two mornings preceding it, there was a message on her desk when she arrived at work. It was another note from Draco pleading with her to communicate. That made three. Should she give these to Kingsley? If she didn't, she might not be able to explain why she didn't later. Finally she decided the messages were private. If Draco or his attorney tried to implicate her as the aggressor in this incident, then the messages could help dispute this claim, otherwise she would keep them. There had been no word from Kingsley since the Tuesday morning paper had her and Draco pasted on the front page. If there were any new developments with the incident she was completely unaware of them..

It had been another boring and uneventful day. Harry had dropped by her office and talked smalltalk for a few minutes and asked if she might me interested in something to eat after work. She thanked him but explained she had planned a quiet evening at home with her new book. He looked a little surprised at the answer, and she suspected he was playing middle man between her and Ron. If Ron had anything he wanted to tell her then he could do so himself. His little avoidance maneuvers in the halls were getting old quick.

When she unlocked the door to her flat she could tell Winky had finished cleaning and left early. Winky had been acting a little curious lately and she was thinking it was time for them to have a little chat. Going through the normal habit of changing, she found some comfortable jeans and pulled a warm cardigan over her head. Grabbing some leftovers for a bite to eat, she took the rest of her soft drink into the sitting room where she started a small fire. Pulling a heavy quilt over her legs, she got out her new book, _Wizards on a Train_ and turned to the place-marker The book was about magical espionage during the world war and she was about half way through.

Just as the dark wizard was about to be seduced by the blonde witch for information on the coding device – the doorbell rang.

The really odd thing about that – she didn't have a doorbell! She grabbed her wand from the handbag in her room and approached the front door cautiously. Someone had used a doorbell charm to get her attention. Since the gimmick seemed more humorous than threatening, she cracked the door open a notch to look out. Her wand was pointed defensively through the crack.

"_Whoa_... no need for that now – just thought I'd stop by."

"What are you doing here?" she asked and lowered her wand.

"Well you didn't answer any my notes and this _was_ the evening for our dinner date."

"I almost lost my job and I shouldn't be talking with you," she said flatly. The blonde wizard dipped his head for a moment.

"Hermione, I had nothing to do with Rita Skeeter – can I come in for minute – we need to talk," he pleaded.

"_No_ Draco – that's impossible now."

"_Why_ Hermione? I just told you I had nothing to do with that," he insisted.

"Draco, did you read the column? Do you know what it said about me? _No_ – _no way_. And have Rita take another picture of you leaving my flat. Yeah that would do it alright."

"What – you think I came here to set you up – to trick you?" he asked and rolled his shoulders into a shrug.

"Right now... I'm not sure what to think, but I can't be with you. I know that," she explained.

"That hurts Granger. I came here to help square things up and this is what I get," he said dejectedly.

"I'm sorry. I have to be firm on this. Goodnight," she muttered and closed the door.


	11. Winky's Story

**A/N: ** Sorry about the glitch yesterday - Before the new chapter could get on the server I edited chapter content and it seemed the link to the page was lost. Hope all is well today.

This chapter is a little short, but very revealing. Insightful reviews on the last chapter. Thanks for those, the fav's and the follows.

Remember to review and thanks for reading...

* * *

**11. Winky's Story**

"Damn..." Draco muttered under his breath with the door clicking shut only a few inches from his face.

He almost knocked again, but deciding against it he turned and walked slowly to the tube station. He could understand, in part, her feelings and had strongly hoped they could talk this thing over. He had felt confident that if they could talk for a while, she would understand he had nothing to do with Rita Skeeter turning up at the restaurant the way she did.

There had been something suspicious the way Narcissa immediately contacted the family's attorneys. He had told her to stay out of it, but as usual she had a mind of her own when it came to issues concerning the family. And right now she was hell-bent to get him free of this obligation to the Ministry. She was still pissed off the way Lucius had been carted off to Azkaban, and she had no love for the Ministry.

There was something else bothering Narcissa, and it didn't take much imagination to guess what it was. It was obvious from the lunch date and their picture in the _Daily Prophet_ that he and Hermione had become very friendly. The war might be over, but issues concerning blood status were still very much alive with wizarding families like his own. Narcissa and Astoria would be willing to try just about anything to stop him from dating a Mudblood.

‡‡‡‡‡

"Damn..." Hermione muttered to herself. She had shut the door in Draco's face. He was trying to form another syllable when she pushed it closed.

She hated to do it, but rules were rules and if she had followed them the first time she wouldn't be in this mess. If anyone spotted Draco coming out of her flat the governors would have her job for sure. She couldn't take a chance on it, and with that action resolute in her mind she locked the door and wriggled under the quilt to continue reading _Wizards on a Train. _

Heels clattering on marble echoed through the quiet atrium as Hermione hurried to her office. She ignored the flirtatious grin from the lift operator and quickly got off the lift at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The alarm by her bed had failed to go off on this morning and she slept nearly an hour over. Just a few steps from turning down the narrow hall to her office, Ron was headed her way with a cup of coffee from the canteen. She braced herself for another one of his cold and curt greetings. In no humorous mood, her greeting was monosyllabic.

"Hey," she said and continued along at a brisk pace. Ron stopped, took a sip of coffee, and followed the auburn haired witch with his head.

"Hey," he said as she continued on.

Throwing some books on her desk and pulling on the simple black work robes, she was settling in for the day. Footsteps. They paused and she looked up but nothing was there. After a few moments, Ron took one more step and poked his head in her office.

"Hermione?"

"Yes Ron?" she said looking up intently at the ginger haired wizard.

"We need to talk," he said.

"Yes, we do Ron. Why don't you close the door and have a seat," she said, pointing to the chair.

Ron did as he was told. He sat there a few moments before speaking.

"You don't look too happy with me," he finally said.

"No, I guess I'm not."

"Are you angry?"

"More like hurt," she said.

"Why?"

"Why... Ron, you should have come to me before this," she said firmly.

Ron nodded sullenly.

"I was angry," he said and dipped his head.

"I know. And I know this whole thing looked awful, but you should have given me a chance to explain," she said.

He paused to reflect on this for a minute.

"Okay – you're right. Maybe I should have," he said. "Well," he muttered and looked at his watch. "I've got a task from Kingsley and I'm off straight away in a few minutes. Can you have dinner with me tonight? At our place," he asked.

Hermione paused and then nodded. "Come and get me when you're ready."

‡‡‡‡‡

A message from Kingsley arrived shortly after. Curious, Hermione walked briskly with nervous energy through the gilded archway with robes flowing behind her. Kingsley's receptionist went to unlock the padded door.

"Good morning sir," she greeted as professionally as possible.

"Oh, good morning Hermione – have a seat," he said and she plopped down on the edge of the large padded chair.

He rolled his chair slightly to the side of his desk. He opened a folder of papers and read silently a few lines before taking a gaze at Hermione.

"Just an update from our situation with Draco Malfoy," he said. "Not much has changed I'm afraid. As you know they've acquired legal representation in this matter. They're fighting this tooth and nail," he said.

Hermione couldn't hide a look of disappointment and Kingsley seemed to notice.

"Has Draco made any attempt to contact you?"

"No sir," she lied.

"Our claim is that this whole thing was just some overly ambitious journalism by Rita Skeeter – and the photograph doesn't really show anything to dispute this," he added.

"Yes sir," she said and nodded.

"We'll have to wait and see what their people come back with, but we're proposing, that if he resumes his work assignments with Cynthia presiding, then we'll be ready to forget this interruption," he said. "But, if they take this to court and lose, then we'll insist on the full three months in Azkaban. That ought to give them something to think about," he added with resolution.

"Yes sir – I think that would."

‡‡‡‡‡

When questioned, Ron avoided Hermione's eyes and stared into the flickering light of the candelabra.

"I was hurt and pissed off," he admitted as they looked across the table after a long silence. They had their usual balcony table in the pub they were always so fond of. And as usual the lighting was warm and soft. Ron had ordered a beer but Hermione had declined a drink.

"I understand – it just bothers me that you'd rather pout for a week than come talk to me," she replied.

"I'll never jump to conclusions again, but there's something you can do to help me with this kind of problem?"

"Yeah, what's that?" she asked.

"This time I'm not asking for your opinion – this time I'm asking for your hand," he said.

Hermione sat frozen, like a deer in headlights.

"I'm asking for you to marry me – what do you say?"

Ron had her backed into a corner. The meeting with Kingsley had made it clear. Draco or his family was working to clear him of his conviction and this mess could still blow up in her face. It could make her look like a fool. If that happened, just where would she be? Probably nowhere – no Draco – no engagement and maybe no Ron. The situation was clear and concrete and her answer felt forced.

"Yes Ron – I will," she said and wondered in the deepest recesses of her mind. What would have happened if Rita Skeeter had not been there to take a picture as Draco leaned in to kiss her.

‡‡‡‡‡

Hermione struggled with the key and slowly opened the door to her flat. Feeling tired, she trudged into her room to change. Winky was in the kitchen cleaning and fixing something to eat. Going through her normal routine, she stripped naked and felt the cool air smack her skin. More awake now, she pulled on some jeans and stuck her head through a loose and baggy cardie. She found some old ballet flats as limp as wash rags to wriggle into and then drug out to the kitchen to help Winky.

"Hello Winky."

"Good evening Miss," she replied.

They had soup and toasted cheese sandwiches on the table in a few minutes. Winky was barely able to reach up to the table and always kept everything sitting on the edge. Hermione noticed Winky's fingers were still red and blistered and she almost dropped her glass while reaching for a drink.

Finally Hermione had to ask, "Winky, what's wrong with your hands? They're still red and blistered?"

Winky looked back with eyes as big as saucers. She didn't immediately reply but gazed at Hermione for a few moments as if stuck in thought. Gradually her large eyes swelled with tears that grew into fat globules of water that ran down her cheeks.

"Winky – you're crying. What's wrong?" Hermione asked. And that moment Winky began to sob and wail with more huge tears running down her face.

"Winky – just calm down now, and tell me what's wrong." Winky dried her eyes and face with a tea towel and blew her nose.

"Miss, it's all my fault," she said, shaking her head while blowing her nose once more.

"What's your fault Winky? What are you talking about?"

"It was Gilbert and Dottie and me that planned for you and Mister Draco to get together," she announced.

"How did you do that Winky?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Miss Dottie – she owes Gilbert and me in a big way Miss – she is Miss Cynthia's house-elf. Part time, like me?"

"Okay Winky," Hermione said scratching her ear. "But I don't follow you here."

"It was Miss Dottie who put the potion in Miss Cynthia's tea, so she couldn't come to work, and so you would be Mister Draco's case officer," she said, wide-eyed and serious.

Hermione looked at Winky skeptically. "What kind of potion?"

"A potion with dried Crumple-Horned Snorkack powder – a little bit of that and you can't talk for weeks," Winky explained.

Now, very much convinced, Hermione shot back sternly, "Oh Winky that was terrible!"

Winky shook her head and began a fresh round of crying. "Oh I know Miss and that is why we all has to iron our hands for punishment," she said and showed Hermione the burned and blistered fingers.

"Gilbert you see, he knew at Christmas time which night Mister Draco was going to Diagon Alley," Winky explained.

"That's why we had to change our nights to theirs?" Hermione asked and Winky nodded agreeably.

"Okay Winky, but why did you want Draco and me to _get togethe_r?" she asked and cracked a smile.

"We thought it would be best for everybody Miss. You asks why Gilbert and I are not a couple. We can only be a couple under the same household," she explained.

"I don't follow you here Winky."

"Well, if you and Mister Draco were together – at the Mansion that is – well then you could take Winky with you. You is very kind you is Miss. And maybe later you could get Miss Dottie to come along as well," she explained with much nodding and hand waving.

"Oh Winky, that's the most incredible story I've ever heard," she said and shook her head disapprovingly. "And how did you figure that would be best for Draco and I," she asked with arms outstretched.

Winky paused as if not wanting to answer.

"Did you think of that?" she repeated.

"Well I hate to say this... Mister Ron, well he is a fine man..." Winky said and hesitated and rolled her huge glassy eyes.

"Go on Winky."

"Well, you just don't seem happy Miss. Not like a young women your age should be. Winky has worked for many young women and Winky knows these things. And Gilbert, he says Mister Draco – well he ain't happy neither," she said with conviction and a satisfied look about her.

"Well, Winky – you, Gilbert, and Dottie are quite the matchmakers. But, I wish you had come to me first. Now things are in a big mess," she said.

"Oh yes Miss – they is in a big mess, and it ain't Mister Draco's fault," she said, without realizing the importance of her comment.

Hermione's eyes shot up. "Not Draco's fault – Winky, you said it's not Draco's fault?" Hermione asked, with perked interest.

"Oh no Miss. It was Narcissa and Miss Astoria that got that Skeeter woman to come a take a picture of you and Draco," she insisted.

Once again, Hermione was amazed at what Winky knew or claimed to know.

"Winky, how do you know this – this is very important," she said.

"Gilbert has heard Miss Astoria telling Narcissa about you and Mister Draco having lunches together. Narcissa and Miss Astoria were very angry," she said and nodded.

"Yes Winky, I can believe that, but how did Narcissa find out when and where we were having lunch?"

"Gilbert... well he'd been seeing Narcissa going into Draco's room when he was out. She was reading Mister Draco's little book," she said as she stretched her scraggly arms out.

"A little Book?"

"Yes Miss, a little book where you writes things in, like times and things."

"An appointment book Winky?" Hermione said, squinting.

"Yes Miss, that's what I'm talking about."

"Oh I see," Hermione said and paused. To the Ministry, it didn't matter how Rita Skeeter got to the restaurant, but to Hermione it mattered a great deal.

"And that's not the all of it Miss," Winky said shaking her head?

"There's more bad news?" Hermione asked disbelievingly.

"Now Mister Draco is angry with Narcissa and Miss Astoria – he says he's going to do his time in that prison," she said and more tears filled her large house-elf eyes.

"Don't worry about that Winky – I'll look into it."

"Thank you Miss. I sure don't want to see Mister Draco going to that horrible place," she said wiping her eyes.

"Neither do I Winky – neither do I."


	12. Draco's Decision

**A/N: **Last week was a big one. Thanks for the reviews, fav's, and follows. Not sure why really, but hope this trend continues.

Remember to review – Thanks for reading.

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**12. Draco's Decision**

"Are you mental?"

"No... and I think finally I've come to my senses."

"Our legal people can get you off this. The last thing you need is to go to that prison. This will destroy Astoria – and it may destroy you," Narcissa screamed bitterly.

"I don't need your help mother. The rest of this is my decision – my life. Do you understand?" Draco demanded.

"No, I don't understand – any of it," she said and began to sob.

Draco excused himself and left Narcissa to cry alone. Whatever action he took, it would be his decision and his decision alone. He was caught in the middle of three powerful witches and at the moment he was struggling for control of his life.

"And all over a Mudblood," she screamed as he left the room.

‡‡‡‡‡

After hearing Winky tell her story, Hermione had trouble sleeping. In the middle of the night, tossing and turning, she awoke in a cold sweat from a bad dream.

The dream had been terrifying. Being upset with his whole situation, Draco had gone to Azkaban prison by his on accord. Hungry Dementors were gathering around him to eagerly feed on the captive wizard. One by one they took turns extracting their fill of joy and hope from the helpless blonde prisoner. At last, when there was no more happiness to give, they began to go for something much more precious. The unconscious wizard lay on the floor of a dirty prison cell. His mouth gaped open as a little ball of light began to escape from his lips. The precious ball of light was his soul. But it was not just his soul they were after as Hermione could feel her own soul being pulled from the depths of her bosom. The two souls were linked in the dream and she could feel all hope and joy and her very life being pulled away.

Wide awake now, cold and shaking, she got out of bed and struggled to the kitchen for a drink of water. She cradled her glass of water at the kitchen table until the effects of the dream faded. She would speak with Kingsley tomorrow, but she was unsure how much of the story she should tell. Doing her best to clear the bad thoughts out her head, she returned to bed and slept the rest of the night without incident.

Barely finishing her cup of coffee, Hermione had rushed to the Ministry and was clattering down the marble floored halls nearly an hour early. She got a quick note off to Kingsley's assistant and receptionist to arrange a meeting as soon as possible. It was nearly mid-morning before the response arrived. She quickly made her way under the gilded archway and paused in the waiting area in front of Kingsley's office. The perky receptionist was not at her desk but the heavy door to Kingsley's office could be heard to open.

"Right this way Miss – the Minister can see you now," she said, coming out of Kingsley's office with a wide smile.

"Thank you," Hermione said in a professional voice.

Kingsley was standing beside his desk with a curious look on his face.

"Morning Hermione – what's new?" he asked casually and gestured toward the large leather chair.

"Thank you," she muttered in response to the gesture. "I have news sir."

"_Really_ – what kind of news Hermione," he said and returned to his chair behind the large mahogany desk.

"It's about Draco sir," she said and Kingsley returned an expression of scrutiny. "There's a rumor he's considering Azkaban instead of returning to his work assignment."

"What – you mean _dropping_ the legal proceedings for the appeal?"

"It was never Draco that instigated the legal proceeding sir, it was Narcissa Malfoy," she said.

"That's interesting. But how did you come by this information – and can we rely on it?" he asked suspiciously.

"I think so sir. My house-elf is quite familiar with an elf at Malfoy Manor," she said as if letting out a secret. "And I believe they've been keeping a close eye on the situation for some time," she said and took a deep breath.

Kingsley looked away and began to fidget with his pipe, a sign he needed time to reply.

"That may be true Hermione, but there's really nothing we can do," he finally said.

"Nothing we can do – but sir if this is true then Draco had no intention to get off his conviction," she contested.

"I'm sorry Hermione, but this thing has gotten quite a bit of attention lately and it's not just me making the calls on this. No... in one way or another we all work for the governors," he stated and set the pipe back down on the desk.

"You mean I can't get in touch with Draco – and try and coax him back?" she pleaded.

"I'm sorry Hermione," he said. "But we can't put ourselves at risk over the testimony of two house-elves.

"Then, there's nothing I can do?" Hermione asked frantically.

"What if this is just some ploy by Narcissa. She's fooled you once – and she could certainly get the best of house-elves. No, you can't get caught sending an Owl," he said tapping the pipe on the edge of the desk.

"This is horrible sir," she protested.

"The best thing for you to do right now, is to stick with the house-elves. Use them to deliver a message if you must. Their testimony can't be used in court, if it ever comes to this," he said.

"Yes sir," she said sullenly and dipped her head.

"Oh, and another thing," he said and pointed the pipe stem at her for emphasis. "If he volunteers to serve out his time in Azkaban by his own choice, then there's no turning back once he's inside the prison. You need to make that perfectly clear Hermione."

"Yes sir, I'll tell the house-elves to make that clear," she said and rose from the chair to leave.

"And if he does go – he may not be the same man when he gets out," he added sternly.

"Yes sir."

"Sorry we have to be so firm in this Hermione – I really am..."

Hermione left Kingsley's office and tried to hide from him the disappointment she felt. If she had agreed to talk with Draco the night he came by her flat then things might not be in the mess they were now. When she got back to her office, she grabbed a sheet of parchment and quill. She wrote a quick note to Winky, asking her to stop by her flat that night after work.

The slow day had felt much longer. Generally when Hermione felt this way, browsing through books at Diagon Alley was just the cure. If she left early she could go there and get back home in time to meet Winky. When four thirty finally rolled around she peeked out of her office door and saw no one. She gathered up her belonging and took off to get away from Ministry business and life in general. She was almost to the lifts when she heard the call.

"Slipping out are we?"

She wheeled around to see her ginger haired fiance stand in the halls.

"No I was just... well yes, I guess I was. Been a long day you know," she replied.

"How about a bit of dinner and something to drink?" he asked.

"Oh... Ron that's nice of you – but can we do it another night," she asked, remembering her note to Winky.

"Well sure, if you're not up to it," he said, looking a little askance. "Is everything okay?" he asked and raised a brow.

"Just fine Ron," she lied. "I didn't sleep well last night and I'm a little tired, you know."

"Well get some sleep then and we'll make it tomorrow," he said cheerfully.

"Yes, that'll be fine Ron. We'll try for tomorrow," she said and quickly took the lift to the empty Atrium where she quickly headed toward the exits, leaving thoughts of the Ministry far behind her.

Diagon Alley was rather quiet on this evening and Hermione found it to be the perfect getaway for a hour of leisure. Passing Gringotts wizarding bank she was just a few shops away from Flourish and Blotts when she noticed old blind Alice and her basket of Potpourri just a few paces away. Being a little pressed for time, she considered going around the blind witch but decided that would be cruel. Besides, as sharp as Alice was, she'd probably know anyway.

"Good evening Alice," she said.

"Well, Miss Hermione, it's a treat to hear your voice dear," the old witch said.

"Thank you Alice, have you been selling lots?" asked Hermione.

"Not this evening – it's rather quiet, it is. What brings you my way tonight dear?"

"Flourish and Blott's – thought I'd browse around a while," Hermione added.

"Uhmm... How are things my dear? Has the amulet helped – are you wearing it?" she asked with a hopeful smile.

"Yes," Hermione lied cheerfully. " – well no – not tonight actually."

"Well then, are things all better with you now?" Alice persisted.

"Yes – well no, they're not I'm afraid," she said. Alice seemed to think on this a bit before speaking and rubbed her ear buried behind a bun of greyish white hair.

"Well I thought you would be better by now, I did – the rune, it's powerful magic it is."

"I'm sure of it," Hermione said patronizingly.

"Miss, is this about that business in the paper?" Alice asked. Hermione was a little shocked that Alice knew of anything of events in the papers.

"Yes, a little," she relented.

"Well, let old Alice think about that. If it don't get better – you come back and see me," she said with a toothless smile.

"I'll do that," she said cheerfully to pacify the old witch.

"And wear the amulet, it'll do ya good – I promise," she said with a little aimless wave.

Hermione waved back and wondered if Alice could tell. She had more vision than most of those that had perfectly good eyes.

‡‡‡‡‡

Quickly rushing through Flourish and Blotts, Hermione scanned over most of the new books but never forgot for a moment about Winky and the meeting with her later. Kingsley had been right – if she tried to get an Owl or physical message to Draco and Narcissa intercepted it, then this whole problem could get spun up again with renewed vigor. Hopefully Winky would have no trouble in reaching Gilbert and he could deliver a message to Draco.

Winky was dressing the table for dinner when Hermione arrived.

"Good evening Winky."

"Oh, hello Miss. Is you hungry – I've fixed a few things," she said and looked hard at Hermione for signs of approval.

Hermione wasn't hungry at all. "Yes, that'll be fine Winky," she pretended. "I'll be back in a moment." Hermione couldn't think with work-clothes on and quickly disappeared into her bedroom to change.

"Smells good Winky," she said, popping back in a few moments later. Winky had the table set and was waiting patiently.

"You wanted to speak with Winky – is there a problem Miss?" she asked with elf-wide eyes.

"I need to get a message to Draco. Winky can you get this message to Gilbert – so he can tell Draco?" she asked.

"Yes Miss – I thinks I can alright," she said as if the task was too simple.

"Okay – fine. Draco needs to know if he goes to Azkaban voluntarily then he has to stay the full three months. Do you understand Winky?"

"Yes Miss – Winky understands just fine."

"And one more thing Winky."

"Yes Miss?"

"Tell Draco that Hermione doesn't want him to do this. Tell him to please wait and we'll work things out."

Winky smiled a huge smile. "Yes Miss – I'll get the message to him," she said, still grinning.

‡‡‡‡‡

As one last precaution, Hermione put the rune amulet from Alice around her neck before leaving her flat. Hopefully Draco had made the threats about Azkaban in a moment of anger and wouldn't seriously consider subjecting himself to such. At least Hermione chose to think this way as she made her way, weaving through the crowded Atrium, to her office. She was almost at the doorway to the Auror cubicles when Harry stepped out into the hall.

"Good morning Harry."

"Hermione... I was just about to come looking for you," he said.

"Anything important?" she asked with a worried look. He shook his head and grinned.

"Got time for coffee?"

"I guess I could make time – let me check my desk," she said and quickly looked over her desk for messages or notes. Finding none, she hung her coat on the hook and turned toward the door.

"So what's on your mind _old man_?" she said.

"Well, I can tell you're doing better," he said and bumped her shoulder with his, teasingly.

"Just keeping my fingers crossed actually," she said as they entered the lift.

Harry nodded and looked away. "I've heard some strange rumors," he said at last.

"Yeah... like what?" she asked and stepped out of the lift.

Harry didn't immediately answer and quartered behind her as they entered the canteen. He raised an index finger to signal a pause.

"I'll get the coffee – you find us a seat," he said and disappeared in the serving line. Hermione found a table with cream and sugar on it as Harry returned in minutes with the coffee.

He slid the cup toward Hermione as she looked up, eagerly awaiting her answer.

"Things like, Draco is opting to finish his time in Azkaban – that's what I'm hearing," Harry said and then tested the coffee.

"Yeah, I think I started the rumor. You see, Narcissa found out about our luncheons from Astoria. She was also going through Draco's appointment book and knew exactly when to send Rita Skeeter to take our picture," she explained.

"Wow, that's quite a story," he said.

"Well... now Draco is angry at Astoria and Narcissa and probably me as well," she said with a sigh.

"At you – why you?"

"He came by my flat a few nights ago, but I refused to talk to him. Kingsley said I could lose my job," she admitted.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Don't know for sure – but I've told everyone at the Ministry, if he shows up to let me know," she said and rolled her shoulders into a shrug.

Harry nodded his approval sat quiet for a moment.

"I've also heard news from Ron," he said and Hermione returned a sad smile.

"Yeah... I finally gave in to him," she said and nodded. "I felt like I was running out of legs to stand on."

"You don't look too sure about it," he said.

Hermione shook her head aimlessly. "I'll know when the time comes."

‡‡‡‡‡

Deep into reports of covert Ministry activities, Hermione's morning screamed past until she heard footsteps pause at her door. She looked up, saw Ron, and quickly checked her watch.

"Are we still on for dinner?" he asked and Hermione looked dumb. "Remember yesterday – you said tonight!"

"Oh yeah, that's right Ron. I almost forgot," she said and wrinkled her nose. But what she didn't forget was the new book she was eager to get started. She struggled for words but couldn't find them.

"Uh..."

"I'm one ahead of you – let's make it lunch instead," he said grinning. "And it's almost time."

"Sure – let's do it," she said cheerfully.

"Where to?" she asked as she paused, reaching her coat.

"Please not here – anywhere but here today," he pleaded.

"Well, I don't have much time – we'll have to make it short I'm afraid."

"Okay... how about the Leaky Cauldron. That should be quick enough," said Ron.

"Alright, lets go."

Apparating to the Leaky Cauldron from the alley behind the Ministry building, the two were seated at a cozy table by the fireplace in no time. Hannah had their order taken and was coming back around with the meal in a few minutes more.

"So what's Kingsley got you working on these days," she asked and took a sip of her drink.

"Ah... just some investigation into a few shops in Knockturn Alley," he replied.

"With Harry?" she asked.

"No with Jerry. Kingsley's not sending Harry out on the small stuff," he said and shrugged.

"That's a little odd isn't it?"

"Yeah, a little. But then Harry's been a little odd after – well you know," he said and speared a chunk of meat from his beef stew.

"Oh yeah," she said and shook her head. "He still isn't over her, is he?"

"I'm not sure if it's her or that damned black wand," he said plopped the morsel in his mouth.

At that instant there was a pneumatic pop at the end of the dining room. Winky and Gilbert took corporeal form a few moments later. They looked about the room and Winky ran up to Hermione.

"Winky – what are you doing here?" she asked in surprise.

"Oh Miss, there is news, there is," she said with eyes as big as saucers.

"What kind of news Winky?"

Winky looked at Ron and then back at Hermione.

"Could I speak with you over here," she said timidly and pointed toward the back. Hermione excused herself and went to the room next to the yard. Winky pulled Gilbert by the arm as they trotted to keep up.

"So what's going on Winky?"

"It's Mister Draco Miss – he's done gone off to that prison," she said as tears filled her eyes.

"But Winky that's impossible. I've taken every precaution and no one has mentioned a word of it," she protested.

"He got in another fight with Narcissa and left out early this morning Miss," Gilbert croaked. "Said he was gonna turn hisself in, he did."

"Oh what a mess – how did you find us?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"We tried the Ministry – they said you left for lunch. We was gonna try the Three Broomsticks next," said Winky with large tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Dry your face Winky – we'll try and find him. It's unlikely he'll get processed before noon," she said. "Now just stay here and I'll be back in a minute."

Hermione walked the short distance back to Ron's table. There was something she had to tell him and every step felt painful.

"Ron... I've got to go," she said.

He looked puzzled and worried. "Is there a problem? You need help?"

"No Ron, it's not like that – and I have something else, to say" she added and dipped her head.

"What?"

"Ron, I'm not ready for marriage. You're a fine wizard and I don't deserve you – but I'm just not ready."

Ron thew his napkin in his plate and shook his head and looked back helplessly.

"Okay – fine Hermione. If that's how you feel."

"I'll talk to you later Ron – I've got to run," she said and turned toward the back room. She gathered hands with Winky and Gilbert, and the three disappeared in a swoosh of disapparition.


	13. The Tunnel

**A/N: **The last two chapters are short and I'll try to get them both out over the weekend. The last chapter was written with a word count in mind – won't do that again – my bad.

Remember to review and thanks for reading.

* * *

**13. The Tunnel**

Being a house-elf had it's advantages – even if those advantages were slight. With their ability to apparate nearly anywhere, the trio zipped directly into the Ministry Atrium and were standing just a few feet away from the security agent.

"Hello Thomas," Hermione said quickly. "These two house-elves are with me."

"Oh – yes Miss, met them this morning," he said, looking over his spectacles at the pair. "I'll sign them in for you. Let's see... Winky and Gilbert, right?"

"Yes that's right," she replied. "We'll be off then – in a bit of a hurry," she added as she rushed to the lifts with the slapping of elf feet trotting behind her.

Not being completely sure of what proceeding would be used on Draco, Hermione took the lift to the lower court level. She had instructed big Jim, the Bailiff to send her a note if he heard anything. She was sure he would be involved at some point and he would probably escort Draco to Odd-job Oldowe. Oldowe would be the one to actually take the prisoner to Azkaban.

Rushing into the security offices for the courts, Hermione looked everywhere for big Jim the Bailiff, but he was nowhere to be found. He must be out for lunch, she thought as a small panic hit her. About this time a small witch from a back office came scampering up.

"May I help you Miss?" she asked professionally.

"Yes – thank you, I'm looking for big Jim. Is he here?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Miss, but I think he's taken lunch," she said apologetically.

"Well, do you know if he's taken a prisoner this morning?"

"Can't say for sure Miss – he was out for a little while. Wait..." she said and snapped around. Coming around corner was big Jim in a midnight blue uniform.

"Hello Hermione," Jim said as if surprised to see her.

"Jim," she said, struggling for the words. "Have you... did you take Draco..."

"Yes Miss – I did. Just left him with Fergus Oldowe," he said in a deep voice.

"But you agreed to send me a note before that happened," Hermione said, beginning to flush scarlet.

The two house-elves stood there with heads down and their elf chins on their elf chests.

"Well, I'm sorry Miss – you didn't get the note?"

Hermione stood there firmly without giving the question the dignity of an answer.

"No," she finally muttered.

"Well, Mr. Weasley stopped by about that time – I asked him if he could drop it off!"

Hermione was floored – her heart nearly missed a beat. Ron had never mentioned a word.

"But Jim – I told you to send it to me," she barked at the huge man.

"I'm sorry Miss. I really am," he apologized.

"Well, it's done. How long ago was it? How did Oldowe take him?" she fired the questions.

"They left by floo-powder – for the shack at Prisoner Point – I think," he said as if nearly frightened of the angry witch.

Flustered, Hermione shook her head and paused to think. "Can you show us which floo connects to Prisoner Point then?"

"Sure, I can do that," he said and they all rushed out to find the connecting floo in the Atrium.

‡‡‡‡‡

The shack at Prisoner Point sat smack dab in the middle of an idyllic scene along the coast of the North Sea. Spoiling that scene was the dark outline of Azkaban prison that loomed at sea atop a rocky outpost that jutted a few meters above the foamy surf. The prison itself was about three hundred paces from the rock strewn and wave swept shoreline.

The shack was positioned on the point just beyond the first magical barrier to the prison. The first invisible barrier guarded against apparition to the prison and the immediate grounds that surrounded it. Draco and Oldowe had just arrived to the shack via floo powder and stepped out of the oversized fireplace. Draco was shackled by magical bracelets that gave Oldowe the ability to easily control a magical prisoner. Since Oldowe was a squib, the shackles were a necessity. Oldowe opened the door, and they both stepped out into a beautiful day. The wind atop the point was blowing the long yellow grass tops almost flat. The air on top of the point was damp and fragrant with the sweet smell of the sea.

It would have been a beautiful day except for the lump in Draco's stomach that was growing larger with each step. There was a narrow stone walkway down the hill and around a bend that led to the prison entrance. The narrow walkway was not wide enough for two and they walked in single file with Draco ahead of Oldowe down the hillside. He cursed the giant oaf under his breath for fastening the shackles with his hands behind him. He'd have no way to brace against a fall if his footing slipped while going down the hill.

As he struggled down the hillside, he wondered if he'd not gone completely mad. The sounds of breaking waves along the rock strewn shore were growing louder as they began ease around the bend.

To his mind, Narcissa hadn't given a damn about getting him off the Ministry assignment. She was just pissed and worried that his growing feelings toward the Mudblood Granger might wreck the planned marriage to Astoria. He didn't honestly feel Astoria gave a damn either – not really. She was a Greengrass and the Malfoys had always intermarried with the Greengrass family. It was just their way to marry wealthy purebloods and stay that way. They'd have wealthy kids; and they'd probably grow up just like the spoiled little Slytherin shite he had been. And Granger – all she could suggest was getting back to work with Cynthia, the new case officer. Yeah that would be just great, then he'd have four witches to deal with. So... he decided to buck-up and be a man about it. He'd take the damn three months and never have to listen to these witches again.

Only now, there were troubling doubts gnawing at his guts. Granger – maybe there was something in his feeling about her that was difficult to come to terms with. He had gone to her flat that night to clear this mess up, to pour out his soul if need be, and she had turned him away. He hadn't been able to admit until now, but he felt a strange kind of hurt that wouldn't easily go away.

At the base of the hill now and beyond the pass they paused under a large oak tree. There was a simple wooden bench by the base of the tree. Perhaps it had been used by those waiting for family members or loved ones as they were due to leave the prison. The sounds of the waves breaking along the rock strewn shoreline was the aural equivalent of the idyllic scene above.

They continued along the walkway to the black opening of a tunnel that was the entrance to Azkaban prison. As they crossed the last magical boundary it was like walking through a sticky film. Only Oldowe with his security charm could get them through. Taking a half a dozen steps down, they entered the long tunnel under the sea to Azkaban.

‡‡‡‡‡

In a fiery green swoosh, Hermione and the two house-elves stepped out of the oversized fireplace – just minutes behind Draco and Oldowe. They ran thought the first invisible barrier, still several hundred paces from the large oak tree at the base of the hill. The stone pathway was no place for heels and Hermione slowed to yank the shoes off her feet. With a shoe in each hand, she hurried down the hill as quickly as she could manage in stocking feet.

The little trick Ron pulled had stung like a betrayal. Sure, Draco had always picked on him, but this just felt different – it felt wrong. It was almost hard for her to believe he had done it.

With the ground becoming more level now, she picked up the pace and was running full out into a steady ocean wind. Almost at the base of the tree she could see the towering figure of Oldowe and the blond headed wizard almost in the entrance of the tunnel.

"DRACO... DRACO..." but the call couldn't penetrate the final barrier.

With no answer she grabbed her wand and cast a fiery curse toward the barrier to watch it bounce off harmlessly with no effect.

"DRACO..."

She ran up to the boundary and yelled one last time. Nothing.

Out of breath and low in spirit she walked slowly back to the bench and plopped down. Winky and Gilbert were now trotting up to the scene. Pulling her feet up to dust off the loose dirt, she could see the hosiery was ruined and she almost laughed. She slipped the shoes back on and tried to think of what to do next, but her mind was numb and her thoughts were blank.

She felt the amulet given to her by old Alice. She pulled it up and over her head. It never did find a comfortable place between her breasts and was somewhat troublesome to wear. Looking at the carved pattern of runes around the edge, it seemed quaint and simple. Nothing but a good luck charm, she thought. She squeezed her hands tightly around it, no longer able to see the rune markings through misty eyes.


	14. The Confession

**14. The Confession**

Leaving daylight behind, Draco stepped down into the dimly lit tunnel. A dozen steps later, the air was heavy and damp. The only light available was from a long line of candles that ran down the tunnel as far as the eyes could see. The candles were held by black scones caked with candle wax made of mutton tallow; and the acrid smell of burning mutton tallow was thick and pungent. The tunnel resembled a catacomb with deep compartments dug out along the right side of the tunnel walls. Some of the compartments were empty but others were giving off a stench of decay. As they passed by a dugout recess, a Dementor's foul and rotten mouth shot out and hissed loudly as it attempted to inhale as much hope and happiness as it could steal. Draco felt the icy pull and pushed onward to put the thing behind him. He immediately moved over to the left side of the tunnel and moved forward cautiously while holding onto the tunnel wall for support.

Every ten paces or so, another Dementor would lean out of its catacomb recess but was apparently unable to break free from the constraints of the sepulchral chamber. In spite of this restriction the Dementor drew as much of the energy of life as it could hold. Draco was weakening and his knees were beginning to buckle. After a few more Dementors had their way with him, the blond wizard stumbled and fell. Oldowe pulled him up and muttered something about taking a few more steps.

Barely able to walk further, Draco approached a heavy looking door with black iron hinges and fixtures. Oldowe reached in his pocket and drew out an ancient key, polished by wear. He gave the key a turn and clicked the latch to open the door. They entered a dim room with several more doors. There was a couple of benches between the doors.

"Welcome to Azkaban," Oldowe said. "And I hope you have a wonderful stay. We're a few minutes early so make yourself comfortable for a while," he said and pointed to an oily looking bench.

"Loved the bellmen," Draco said as he fell down on the bench by the door.

"Well, I could use a smoke – be back in a few minutes," Oldowe announced. "Whatever you do, don't go back down the tunnel. You won't make it," he said with a smile and exited the room from a side door.

Draco couldn't tell if it was the dim light or the effect of the Dementors kiss but his world had turned to black and white. He couldn't remember or relive one happy thought. The only thing he could think of was how bad it would get. Would it be worse inside the prison? How much worse? Already, he was sick and deeply saddened by this whole experience. Outside, he was able to convince himself this had been the correct course of action – but now – inside the prison, it was different. Any positive outcome that he had imagined quickly disappeared.

He tried to remember Granger but couldn't see her face. He couldn't remember the eyes that were like cauldrons of hazel or the auburn pageboy. He knew in his mind they existed but he couldn't see them or remember how they looked.

‡‡‡‡‡

"Miss – is you alright? We need to go Miss. There's nothing here now," Winky said, holding Hermione by the hand.

"Oh Winky... yes I'll be ready to go in a minute," Hermione said, and then looking up at the steep hill she had come down, she settled back down and relaxed on the bench.

"Well, maybe a couple of minutes," she added.

"Maybe we all should have a rest," Winky said, and her and Gilbert pulled themselves up on the opposite side of the bench, their faces long with the realization that their plan had failed.

‡‡‡‡‡

The deathly silence was broken as the side door opened and Oldowe bulged his way back in. The big man looked down at the sight of Draco holding his head in his hands and laughed.

"Do you know who I am – have you ever seen me before?" Oldowe asked with amusement.

Draco looked up at the huge man and then dipped his head, shaking it slowly.

"No, never seen you," he muttered.

"I'm Odd-job Oldowe, you wanna hear a funny story?" he asked.

"Are you kidding?" replied Draco.

"It might do you some good – so listen up. I do a lot of different jobs, you know – just the way I am I suppose."

At this point Draco looked at the big man and wondered what the hell was going on – the man telling anecdotes in the middle of Azkaban.

"Well one I do, it's around Christmas time, and it's a lot of fun. I play the department store Santa in Diagon Alley," he said and bellowed a huge laugh.

"You don't say," Draco added sullenly to humor the big oaf.

"Yeah I do," he said firmly, "and that's where you come in," he said and dropped the laugh.

"Where I come in?"

"Yeah... I noticed those kids you brought into Diagon Alley – St. Mungo's kids they were – seen em last year too. Well, I know what the hospital can afford to spend on them and it's not much."

Draco shook his head – it would be an appropriate moment to laugh – if he could. "So what's the point?"

"So," Oldowe continued. "The point is – those kids had more, a lot more. You were buying those kids the extra gifts – weren't you," Oldowe said with an air of discovery and Draco managed a nod.

There was a pause and a deathly silence about the room.

"Anyone would have?" Draco muttered with his head in his hands.

"Let's go," Oldowe finally announced and Draco struggled to get up.

Oldowe opened a door adjacent to the one they used to enter. He held the door and waited for Draco to drag through. Another tunnel but unlike the first. This one had smooth plaster walls that were a dingy grey in color, or at least they seemed grey to Draco's altered state of mind. There was a string of naked light bulbs attached to the top of the tunnel, spaced a half a dozen paces apart.

They continued walking with Draco holding onto the wall for support. Finally, after a distance roughly the same as they had traveled to enter the prison they stopped at a dead end. Off to the side of the tunnel's end was another door. Oldowe pushed Draco aside and opened it with his key. There was light – bright light, and Draco could feel Oldowe's hand on his back and pushing gently. After a few steps, they were standing at the base of the stone stairway they used to enter the first tunnel. The smell of the foamy sea was everywhere and Draco turned to face Oldowe.

"Are we..." he struggled for words.

"Yes, we're back out," said Oldowe.

"One tunnel in and another out," Draco muttered, "Why – why are you doing this?" he added.

"Same tunnel, but different magic," Oldowe said and grinned. "The other part of your question," he said and paused. "I don't believe you're all that bad – hell, maybe not bad at all. You don't belong in there," he said and motioned toward the prison. "Maybe someone else will bring you back – but I won't."

Draco shook his bowed head – still struggling to comprehend the moment.

"And there's someone out there – waiting for you I think. Seen her when I went out for a smoke," Oldowe said sternly and nodding. "You'd be a fool to mess that up, so you better go," he said with a smile and turned to leave. "But if you do mess things up again, hell, I may be the one to come after you. Can you make it up the steps?" he asked.

"Bloody hell, I'll make it alright," Draco said.

"Well, then go – I've got business back inside," Oldowe said and turned this time for good.

Weak and washed out, Draco struggled with each stone step as he finally made it up to the level ground above. Just as Oldowe had said, there was a brunette sitting on the old bench under the oak tree. With her head in her hands, she couldn't hear his soft footsteps above the sounds of the sea breaking on the rocks. The two house-elves were on the other side of the bench with their elf heads in their hands. The whole trio looked quite glum. Gilbert was the first to notice.

"Master..." he said.

Draco, almost stone faced looked blankly at the trio.

"Well Granger – what are you doing here?" he asked.

Hermione jerked around to see Draco standing there a few feet away. She jumped up from the bench and rushed up to the wizard. He was pale and shaky looking. She stood there for a few moments until she could summon the words.

"You know why I'm here," she said as if answering a silly question and reached for the wizard's hands. "So how did you... did Oldowe...", she said and looked intently into grey eyes.

"He just let me go," he said, still trembling. "But the Dementors..."

"Oh my God," she said and hugged the blonde wizard.

"So why _did_ you come Granger?" he repeated.

"Why are either one of us here? I can't believe you tried this," she said shaking her head.

Slowly the color started to re-enter his world. He looked deeply into the hazel eyes before resuming the kiss that was so rudely interrupted weeks ago at the restaurant.

‡‡‡‡‡

Hermione felt the kiss – fumbling and clumsy at first as if Draco was still not quite himself. He slowly warmed to her touch and and the exchange felt like fire. Pulling away a little, he canted his head and kissed her again. Tongues were darting and playing past parted lips.

Crashing against the rocks, the sea added an orchestration of percussion. The whistling wind quickly chimed in at the same moment, leaving behind a fragrance of the ocean breeze. Draco was definitely warming up now. His hands entered her coat and went roaming. Completely drained of hope and happiness, his hands went on a groping rampage. Hermione could sense, that Draco was re-filling his soul after the Dementors had taken all he had. She stood there still, knowing, giving, and passionately replacing what he had lost. Slowly she was recoloring his world, and finally he pulled away and took a deep breath of air.

"Sorry – carried away, I guess. The Dementors, they took all..." Draco shook and bowed his head, unable to continue.

"That's _okay_ Draco – I understand," she said and at that moment remembered Ron's betrayal. "I can help you." _ And Ron – payback will be a bitch._

"Help me?" he asked, and she nodded with a puzzling smile. Hermione chuckled at how she would be the one, and not Astoria or Narcissa, to refill Draco's world with warmth.

"Yes and it beats chocolate – just agree to one thing," she pleaded.

"What?" he asked.

"You promise to go back to the Ministry and let Cynthia take over," she explained.

"Okay, and then what?"

"You promise then?" she asked again.

Draco nodded sincerely.

"Then I'm _yours_," she said with a grin. "Let's get of here."

"You mean?"

"Yes," she said and nodded.

"Then, there's only one question left," he asked playfully.

"Yeah – what's that?" she said, puzzled.

"Your place or mine?"

Hermione laughed and said, "It'll have to be my place. I still have nightmares about yours."

Draco chuckled at that and they turned toward the stone pathway.

Remembering the house-elves, Draco stopped and looked back at the pair.

"Oh, Gilbert – take the day off," he said.

"Winky, you have the day off as well – and thanks," Hermione added, and with one leaning on the other, the two squeezed in tight to negotiate the narrow walkway.

‡‡‡‡‡

And all this time the two house-elves stood there with grins and huge smiles as they watched the couple leaning on one another to negotiate the narrow pathway to Prisoner Point. After a time had passed, Gilbert reached for Winky's hand.

"You think we was right to do this?"

"Do what?" Winky asked, innocently.

"Working to put these two together – you think it was right?" he croaked.

"I think so – they wasn't happy before – besides, they make a good looking couple," she said looking affectionately at the pair as they neared the top of the hill.

Gilbert reflected on this a bit. "So do we," he said and gave Winky a little peck on the cheek. "So do we."

Putting the thoughts of Azkaban prison far behind them, they all began the trek toward Prisoner Point as a red sun began falling into a foamy sea.

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**A/N:** A short epilogue will follow in a few weeks I hope. My crystal ball is a little dim for this couple and really can't imagine how long they could remain a pair. I know Narcissa will do everything in her power to mess things up. Maybe a poll could settle things. Some of the other characters are more clear to me and they are why an epilogue would be nice. This story has been a blast to write and submitting a chapter each week has become addictive. I'll hate saying goodbye to these two, But am planning the next story to be back to Harry and his next adventure in the Ministry as an Auror.

**The Poll is up! It's on my profile page - Please Vote.**

As with my story and all those you read, please review. And last but not least: Thank you for reading.


	15. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Now don't you worry. You can come back and visit anytime."

"Yes Miss – Winky will do that," Winky said as the tears started to swell in large glassy eyes.

"And if Narcissa treats you badly, you be sure and let me know," Hermione explained. "Matter of fact, it might be best if we get together after a few weeks."

"Yes Miss Hermione. Winky will come back for sure. You is a fine person, you is. Gilbert says, he wants to thank you too. We is both hoping you and Mister Draco will be happy," said Winky, drying her eyes on the pillowcase she was wearing.

"Why, thank you Winky – that's sweet," Hermione said and bent down to give the house-elf a hug.

As Hermione nodded approval and waved a little wave goodbye, the house-elf disapparated with a little swoosh. It had been very difficult to get Winky on at Malfoy Manor. Draco had been perfectly happy with the idea but Narcissa had fought it tooth and nail. Since they were barely on speaking terms at all and it had taken threatening efforts from Draco to get Winky on the Malfoy Manor staff of house-elves. All Narcissa really knew about Winky is that she had been dismissed from the Crouch family several years ago. Narcissa didn't know, but was very suspicious Winky and Gilbert had played a hand in getting Hermione and Draco together as a couple. If Narcissa ever found out for sure then things could get very difficult for Winky.

After saying her goodbye to Winky, Hermione was running a few minutes late for work. She disapparated after finishing her coffee and quickly made it to the long queue for the Ministry entrance. She was hoping for a nicer flat with a fireplace and a connection to the floo network to the Ministry. The toilets were flushing normally this morning and within a few minutes she was clacking in heels down the long marble floored halls in the Atrium. Entering the lift, she instructed the operator to stop at the level for her new job. To make it easier on Ron and herself she had put in for a transfer. She had moved to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Kingsley threw a fit, but finally consented when she threatened to quit. It was the job she had wanted when she joined the Ministry, but Kingsley had insisted she start with Magical Law Enforcement.

Ron had been upset enough when she broke off their engagement and left the Leaky Cauldron, that day, with Gilbert and Winky. When he found out why, and who she was with, he went ballistic. Their encounters in the hall had been dreadful. So much so, that within a week she insisted she be transferred. So far, things were working out well and she really enjoyed the job. The new office was much nicer and more spacious. Taking her work robes off the hanger, she noticed a interdepartmental message on her desk.

Hermione,

Can I tempt you for lunch?

Don't think I seen you in an age.

Harry -

She scribbled a quick reply telling him yes and gave the magical note a throw back in his direction. Held up by air and propelled by magic, the message quickly disappeared. Within a few minutes the note crash landed on her desk again. She opened it and for her amusement read it out aloud.

'Great – let's meet in the canteen then – say eleven thirty before the crowd arrives.'

She smiled and pulled the robes over her head to start the day. Since Harry was best friends with Ron, she had the right to be a little suspicious. But since he was her best friend too, she was completely looking forward to the lunch date.

‡‡‡‡‡

"I thought you'd fell off the ends of the earth," Harry said, sitting his lunch tray on a table Hermione had found.

She laughed at this and thought about the observation. "You're not far from wrong," she said.

"Really?"

"Yeah, we've been traveling – whenever we get the chance. We've been to Paris and then to Rome."

"Wow – so it was the end of the earth then," he said.

"Almost," she said. "Who would have ever thought this a year ago?"

Harry looked down at her lunch which consisted of a small salad with bread sticks and water, spiced with a wedge of lemon.

"You call that lunch?" Harry asked and pulled a face. "It wouldn't keep a bird alive."

"Well, I've put on weight," she said and blushed.

"You don't mean..."

"No, nothing like that," she said and giggled. "Draco has this thing about going out to all kinds of restaurants – and very late at night I might add."

"Oh, I see," Harry said and bit the end off a muffin.

"_So_, enough of me. How are you – and have you seen Ginny?" she asked and gave him a hard look.

"Oh – it's been a while back."

"Yeah, _how'd_ it go?" she asked and forked a slice of carrot.

Harry shook his head and then chuckled. "Hell, we tried, I guess. But it didn't go so well."

"Why not Harry?" she asked and drew her eyes onto tiny slits.

"We're not ready yet. At least – that's what I finally figured out," he said and exhaled a deep lungful of air. "She's good looking still, and she's getting plenty of dates. She doesn't need a guy like me – a guy with issues."

"You don't have _issues_," she said and sat the fork down. "You're a bit more complex now – that's all. And Ginny still cares for you. You're just not ready to see that yet," she added and reached for the fork.

"Well anyway – she's off to play for the Holyhead Harpies," he said, matter of factly.

"You should go see her games," she said excitedly. Harry gave her a wry smile and didn't respond.

There was a period of silence that Harry finally broke. "It's been hard on Ron, you know," he finally said.

Hermione dipped her head a little before responding. "I'm sorry to hear that. I really am, but it's part his fault, you know," she said and looked sternly.

"Yeah – he told me about it. He said he knows he shouldn't have done that."

"You bet he shouldn't. You don't send an innocent person to Azkaban just to get them out of the way," she said and angrily stabbed at a lettuce leaf. "That's borderline criminal Harry."

"He knows – and he damn well feels bad about it," Harry explained.

A look of relief washed over Hermione's face and she went back to the salad.

"Is he seeing anyone?" she asked without looking up from the salad.

Harry thought about the question – but just briefly.

"Yeah, I think so, but I'm not really sure," he said and busied himself with his lunch.

"Well maybe, you two should go out. Clubbing I mean," she said, nodding and stirred the last bit of the salad in the oil and vinegar along the bottom of the plate.

"Yeah maybe," Harry said and laughed. "We can cry in each others beer," he quipped.

"I didn't mean it that way and you know it," she said with a smile.

"Sure," he said and threw down his fork. "So this thing – this thing with you and Draco. How long will it last? Do you know?"

She threw the napkin on the table and pulled a face to Harry's question.

"I really don't know. And the way things have been going – well, I really haven't had time to think about it."

‡‡‡‡‡

Granger – he still called her Granger after all this time. Occasionally, 'Hermione' would roll off his tongue but Granger seemed easier and more natural. They had gone straight to her flat after leaving Prisoners Point that day. It took two days of 'recovery' to feel normal again and to replace what the Dementors had stripped in twenty minutes. But, it worked and Hermione had helped replace feelings of depression and despair with good feelings and hope. The funny thing about it was the good memories of Narcissa and Astoria were gone. All that was left was what Hermione had given him.

It wasn't a picnic with Granger every day. If you crossed her, she'd let you know about, and if you treated her right, well, she'd let you know about that too. She was fair and that was the important realization he'd come to understand in the many weeks over their lunches together. He'd known from the beginning Astoria wasn't right for him. Astoria wanted estates, titles, and riches, and she'd let Draco run over her to get it. He needed someone to stand up to him and keep him in line, to enforce a little moderation in his life and Granger could do that.

He had tried to explain these things to Narcissa but she couldn't or wouldn't hear a word of it. She couldn't get the pureblood mania out of her head for a minute.

_'When you come to your senses, I'm sure you'll understand – it's the way of your family. It's always been the way.' _

_'But I have come to my senses.' _

And this would always infuriate her to madness. But, he would hold his ground, even though he wasn't sure exactly where it was going. There was a possibility that Narcissa might try and disown him and cut him off. But he really doubted that she would ever resort to that. With Lucius in Azkaban, she needed a man around the house, even if it was one she despised at the moment.

He was trying to think of a way to introduce Hermione. He was convinced Narcissa's hard heart would soften if she could only meet her and see them together. He could never bring Hermione to Malfoy Manor, even if he could persuade her to try it. Narcissa would throw her out. He had thought of arranging a dinner date with just the three of them, but didn't know if Narcissa would accept. Oh well, it wouldn't hurt to ask and it would be on neutral ground.

‡‡‡‡‡

Hermione's had experienced a sharp falloff in her reading schedule. Between cleaning her flat, evenings of entertaining, or dining out, her private time had pretty much become a thing of the past. On this night she had insisted upon a little quiet time to herself and she was following her feet to Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley. She had been to the Alley several times to return the amulet to Old Alice but never found her. She was beginning to worry about the old witch, when she saw the wildly colorful and patched woolen frock, just around the corner. Walking up to the old witch and knowing she could read footsteps was a bit disconcerting.

"Hermione? Is that you Hermione?"

"Alice... it's so good to see you," she said with a smile.

"Yes Child," the old witch nodded expectantly.

"Things have worked out – they're much better now," Hermione said and grinned ear to ear.

"I'm so glad to hear it – I really am – but I always knew they would," the old witch said as she looked toward Hermione with empty eyes.

"Well, I glad you did, because I was very much in doubt," she said and chuckled.

Old Alice smiled a toothless smile but said nothing.

"Well, I do thank you, and I've come to give it back," she said and reached in her bag for the amulet.

"Give it back?" Alice asked as if not quite sure what Hermione was referring to.

"The amulet – I've come to return the amulet," Hermione said and stretched out her hand, only to remember Alice couldn't see and relaxed it by her side.

Old Alice extended a gnarly finger and scratched an ear under a grey bun of hair. If she had eyes, they would have glanced heavenward.

"I'm an old woman. And luck – good or bad – well it all fares the same. You keep it Hermione. And I'm glad it helped you."

"Alice – are you sure – it's a personal item of yours," pleaded Hermione.

"A little good luck in my life will amount to nothing – But a little good luck in yours could be something special. Yes, I'm sure – you keep it dear."

"Thank you Alice," Hermione said and put the amulet over her head while removing a Galleon from her bag. She picked up a bundle of potpourri and dropped the heavy coin in Alice's cup.

"God bless you child," Old Alice said and nodded.

"Good night Alice," she said, softly and continued on her way.

Maybe she had tipped Alice too much for an old worthless medallion. She didn't know, but she felt a little better wearing it and had a funny little feeling things would work out just fine. If Alice's keen ears were still listening, she would probably hear a little skip to Hermione's step.

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**A/N: ** As promised a short epilogue. It's not too far out, I know. But please vote in the Draco/Hermione poll in my profile. Remember, it's completely anonymous and will help me re-write or the extend the epilogue.

Thanks for reading...


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